By Way of Sorrow
by kytheria
Summary: [COMPLETE] The war is over, but the battle has just begun. Eventual SSHr.
1. Chapter One

**By Way of Sorrow**

  


A/N: If you recognize it, it belongs to JK Rowling. The story title is taken from the song of the same name by Cry Cry Cry. This story will eventually be SS/Hr, but not until after she graduates, in the interest of cutting down on the squick factor.

  


  


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It was over.

  


The entire school sat in the Great Hall and watched, wordlessly, as The Boy Who Lived limped through the huge doors. He was covered with blood, already starting to show bruises, and his wand arm was twisted at an abnormal angle. He looked like hell, Hermione thought, but he was alive. Harry was alive, and that meant Voldemort was dead. He had to be.

  


As if acting by the orders of a collective mind, the professors, led by Albus Dumbledore, rushed towards the injured boy who was trying to walk. Hermione tried to go to him as well, but Ron grabbed her arm and held her back. "Dumbledore's got him," he hissed. Indeed, the aged wizard had just reached his student when Harry collapsed into his waiting arms.

  


Pandemonium broke out through the room. Students stood to get a better look, talking loudly, speculating on what had happened. A stretcher was summoned and Harry was levitated onto it. He had just enough time to speak a few words and press a wand into the Headmaster's hand before he was whisked away to the hospital wing by Madame Pomfrey and Professor McGonagall. Dumbledore glanced at the wand, pocketed it, and motioned to Professor Snape. The men exchanged a few words and the Potions Master left the Great Hall with a sweep of his black robes. 

  


The Headmaster stood in the middle of the room, surrounded by the other professors, and spoke the words the students had been hoping to hear since the news of You-Know-Who's return. 

  


"Voldemort is dead."

  


The Great Hall erupted in cheers. Hermione and Ron stood still, holding their breath, waiting to hear about Harry. Knowing this, Dumbledore caught their eye and smiled before raising his voice once more. "We expect Mr. Potter to make a full recovery."

  


Only then could they release their breath and join in with the rest of the students. As Ron swept her into a massive hug, Hermione let her guard down for the first time since coming to Hogwarts and sobbed into her best friend's shoulder. Finally, it was over.

  


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It was later that night when Hermione finally crept into the hospital wing. Ron and the other Gryffindors had long since gone to sleep in the dorms, having been told by their Head of House that no one was to see Harry until the next morning. Hermione, however, found that she couldn't sleep and was sick of pacing the common room, waiting for the tiredness to overtake her. She hoped to convince Madam Pomfrey for a peek at Harry, or at least a sleep draught. 

  


Madam Pomfrey was nowhere to be found. Hermione peeked into a few of the rooms before noticing the closed door at the end of the hall. She was half way there when the back of her neck prickled and she spun around, guilty brown eyes meeting expressionless black ones.

  


"Good evening, Miss Granger. Might I inquire why you are out of bed and in the hospital wing when you were told to wait until morning?" Professor Snape glared her, arms folded over his chest.

  


Hermione shifted her weight from foot to foot and bit her bottom lip. "I'm sorry Professor," she whispered. "I couldn't sleep. I just..." she looked at the stone floor, waiting for the house points to come off. 

  


Snape regarded her thoughtfully. "I understand," he said curtly. "Come with me." He moved past her, heading for the closed door. Hermione could hardly believe her luck. Was Snape really going to let her see Harry? She hurried to keep up with the professor.

  


He tapped the door with his wand, muttering something under his breath, and the door swung open soundlessly. He strode in and Hermione followed, seeing Pomfrey and Dumbledore standing over the sleeping form in the bed.

  


"Ah, Professor," Dumbledore greeted. "Do you have the potion?" Snape handed the Headmaster a small vial of liquid and gestured to Harry, who was tossing and turning in the bed, sheets tangled around his legs. "How is he?"

  


"Still having nightmares, the poor boy," Madam Pomfrey answered, smoothing her hand over Harry's forehead. Hermione blinked back tears at the sight. His arm was bandaged, but the medi-witch had already healed the other wounds and bruises. Even with as healthy as he seemed, Harry looked so anguished, even in sleep, that she wondered if he'd ever recover. 

  


"Miss Granger?" Dumbledore's voice cut through her thoughts.

  


"Sorry, Headmaster. I didn't hear you," she said, turning from her best friend. Dumbledore's blue eyes twinkled as he smiled at her. "That's quite all right my dear. I said that Harry will be fine, in time. I'm sure you and Mr. Weasley will make sure of that."

  


Hermione smiled shyly at Dumbledore. "Thank you, sir." He patted her hand fondly and said, "I must get to my office now. I expect the Ministry will have plenty of work waiting for me, and you should get back to bed. Mr. Potter will be awake in the morning, and I suspect he will be well enough for a visit from his friends."

  


Snape nodded. "I'll escort Miss Granger back to her dorm, Headmaster." Dumbledore looked once more at Harry then left the room quietly. Snape waved a slim hand toward Madam Pomfrey, who was uncapping the potion he brought in. "Make sure he takes all of it." She slid an arm under Harry and lifted him slightly. "Of course, Severus. Here you are, Harry." She waited until her patient swallowed then lowered him carefully back to the bed. "Now, shoo. This boy needs his rest." She bustled Snape and Hermione out of the room and closed the door behind them.

  


Hermione walked quietly with Snape toward her dorm, lost in her own thoughts. He spoke only when she was about to head up the staircase that led to Gryffindor. "This way, Miss Granger." She shot him a questioning look, but he volunteered nothing more. He led her to the dungeons, but passed the potions classroom, stopping at a room she had never seen before. The door was ornamented by two serpents, innerwined. The Potions Master opened it, then gestured for Hermione to enter as well.

  


The room was unlike any she had seen before. It was filled with elegant, yet comfortable looking furniture, plush green carpeting, and dark mahogany wood. Bookshelves lined one wall, and a cheerful fire crackled in the hearth. Soft strains of music floated through the air. Hermione stopped, shocked. "That's Beethoven," she said, wonderingly.

  


Snape raised an eyebrow before turning his attention to filling a teacup. "Must you always point out the obvious, Miss Granger? I am aware of what it is."

  


She blushed, but accepted the cup her offered. "I'm sorry. That's the first Muggle music I've heard at Hogwarts."

  


"Sit down Miss Granger. That chair is fine." She obeyed, and Snape settled himself across from her on the sofa with his own teacup. "Most wizards are tone deaf. Beethoven and other Muggle composers are preferable to that yowling that wizards produce."

  


Hermione smiled and sipped her tea. "This piece is lovely." Snape nodded once. "Moonlight Sonata. One of his best." They sat in silence, drinking the tea and listening, until the song changed. Hermione placed her empty cup on the table and studied her hands. Surely this was the professor's private rooms. The knowledge that she was occupying the space should have made her vaguely uncomfortable, but it didn't. Being here with Snape was almost... comforting.

  


"I placed a mild sedative in the tea. It will help you sleep. I'll take you back to your room now." Snape set his cup aside and stood up. "Thank you Professor," she said quietly. He looked at her, but didn't say anything until they got back to Gryffindor tower. She gave the Fat Lady the password, and started to climb through, when she heard his voice behind her once more.

  


"Ten points from Gryffindor for a student out of bed after curfew."

  


Hermione bit her lip to keep from smiling. It was Snape, after all. What did she expect?

  


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It took several weeks for the aftermath of Voldemort's fall to play out. Harry had recovered beautifully, with the exception of a lingering cough that even Madam Pomfrey couldn't treat. Classes were disrupted often with funerals for the deceased- almost everyone at Hogwarts had lost someone during the war, but the number of casualties from the last battle were astounding. Harry and Hermione flanked a pale faced but silent Ron at the funeral of Charlie Weasley two days after Harry finally left the hospital wing. Mrs. Weasley clutched at the arm of Bill, who held her upright with the help of Percy. Arthur stood like a statue, silent tears streaming down his thin face. Fred and George, without a joke for the first time ever, comforted Ginny. Hermione squeezed Ron's hand, reminded of the funeral of her own parents the year before. After the services, Arthur sought out Harry and shook his hand, thanking him. Harry himself cried then, telling Arthur he wished he could have ended it sooner, wished he could have saved Charlie.

  


After that, there were funerals for Seamus Finnegan's mother, Katie Bell's parents, Roger Davies, and countless others, all of which Harry, Ron, and Hermione attended. Hermione knew Harry felt responsible for the deaths, and she and Ron both tried their hardest to convince Harry that he had done more than anyone to make the wizarding world safe for the survivors. She knew that intellectually Harry understood, but emotionally was another matter altogether.

  


Power was shifting in the ministry as well. People were so angry that Fudge had tried to hide Voldemort's return that he was forced to step down. His position was offered to Arthur Weasley, but he turned it down, preferring to stay in the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Department. After many meetings and several different candidates, Percy Weasley got his wish. He became the youngest ever Minister of Magic, with the full support of Albus Dumbledore.

  


The Department of Magical Law Enforcement was working overtime, sending Aurors and hit wizards over the globe to capture who was left of the Death Eaters. The Slytherins were unusually subdued as Voldemort's supporters were rounded up one by one and sentenced to Azkaban. Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy were among the first to be captured. To the surprise of the entire school, except perhaps Professor Snape and Dumbledore, when Draco received the news he let out a huge breath and a genuine smile crossed his face. For the first time in Draco Malfoy's life, he was free.

  


Under the influence of Veritaserum, several of the Death Eaters gave Aurors the location of Peter Pettigrew's hiding place. With his capture, Minister Weasley issued a full pardon of Sirius Black and gave him a position at the Ministry. Sirius became the head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation, which had gone unfilled since Barty Crouch Sr.'s death. During Sirius's first few weeks on the job, Percy could often be found instructing Sirius on important matters, such as cauldron thickness. To his credit, Sirius took the advice in stride and he and the Minister became fast friends. The pardon allowed Sirius to purchase a small home in Hogsmeade which included a room for his godson, of whom he was given full custody.

  


Gregory Goyle, along with Vincent Crabbe, were not happy about their fathers' capture. The elder Crabbe and Goyle, every bit as dim as their sons, revealed to the ministry that Voldemort had been able to recruit many werewolves to his cause by means of a potion that cured them of their malady. They admitted that the potion was similar to the Wolfsbane in that it turned the werewolf into a harmless dog, but instead of being ingested every full moon, it needed to be taken only once. Instead of the pardon they were hoping for in exchange for this knowledge, they were sentenced after having given the ingredients for the cure. Dumbledore quickly sent for Remus Lupin, the potion was administered, and the school had its favorite Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher back.

  


The Daily Prophet fawned over Harry, much to his chagrin. Finally, to set the record straight, he agreed to one, and only one, interview, on the condition that it not be sensationalized. When he discovered that Rita Skeeter had been sent to write the article, he almost backed out, but grimly kept his promise, silently vowing to hex to inventive reporter if the terms of the interview were not met. To give credit where it was due, when it was published it was the first Rita Skeeter article that didn't skew the facts. Harry suspected it was because Hermione sat beside him during the interview, glaring at Rita and holding a small glass jar the entire time.

  


Finally, life began to get back to normal, or as normal as life can get after a major war, for both the wizarding world and the three seventh year heroes. Classes resumed their normal schedules, Hermione drove everyone nuts with her franticness over the NEWTs, Ron overcame his sorrow over Charlie's death enough to aggravate Hermione about her study habits ("_But the NEWTs are still 6 months away_!"), and slowly, Harry's eyes started to lose the haunted look they'd had since the Triwizard Tournament at the end of fourth year. 

  


It was during this new fragile peace that disaster planted yet another seed.


	2. Chapter Two

Hermione sat in the Gryffindor Common Room, books and parchments spread over one of the tables. She was engrossed in her Transfiguration book, reviewing information she had learned last year on transfiguring humans into magical creatures. She ran one finger under the words printed in the book while she scribbled notes with her other hand. She needed a test subject for this one. "Hey Harry," she called over to her friend, where he sat playing wizard's chess with Ron.

  


"Wha?" he asked, distracted. His hand was hovering over a rook, which was yelling at him to move the knight instead.

  


"Can I borrow you for a minute?"

  


"Yeah, sure," he answered, switching his focus to the knight. The knight immediately started pointing frantically to a nearby bishop. "Move him, you silly boy. Him!" the tiny voice squeaked.

  


Hermione pointed her wand at Harry and spoke a few choice words. Suddenly, instead of Harry, there was a very confused clabbert sitting across from Ron. The red-haired boy yelped and pushed his chair back. Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil giggled from their seats by the fire. Hermione smiled.

  


The clabbert/Harry turned his head to look at her, croaking through his wide grinning mouth. "Oh, all right. Hold still." Brandishing her wand once more, she gave it a swish and Harry reappeared, much to the amusement of his chess pieces. "Clever girl, that one," muttered the rook.

  


Ron started laughing as well and even Harry grinned sheepishly before succumbing to a coughing fit. "Are you OK, Harry?" Hermione asked, her look of satisfaction changing to concern. Harry waved his hand at her, unable to answer as he hacked a few more times before clearing his throat. "Fine. Just that bloody cough again."

  


Ron peered at his friend. "You really should go see Madam Pomfrey again, Harry. There's got to be something she can do. She's always cured my colds right off."

  


"I have seen her," Harry said, as he moved a protesting bishop. His hand shook at bit as he withdrew it. "She tried everything she knew and nothing worked. It's odd, sure, but only a cough. It'll go away on its own."

  


Hermione looked dubious. "If you're sure..."

  


Harry smiled at her. "I am. I'm more worried about this game than some cough."

  


  


Ron smirked as his queen dragged the downcast bishop off the board. "With good reason too. That's checkmate."

  


Harry groaned as Hermione laughed and gathered her work in her arms. "You'll live," she said, ruffling his hair with her free hand. "I'm off to the library. You guys want to come?" she asked, knowing the answer already. Both boys shook their heads vigorously. "I'll see you at dinner then, and do try to get some work done. We've got that essay for Professor Snape due tomorrow, and I know for a fact neither of you has started it." Ron looked downcast at the mention of essays. "We've got to do our charts for Trelawney as well, Harry. I don't know how many more awful things I can predict."

  


"Maybe you can be eaten by the giant squid this year," Harry offered. Ron's face brightened immediately. "Yeah! And you can fall off your broom in the next Quidditch match and break every bone in your body! We've got to write these down." Hermione rolled her eyes and headed out of the Common Room with the sounds of her friends' enthusiastic predicted disasters following her.

  


Hermione loved the Hogwarts library. All the knowledge in the wizarding world was contained on these shelves. She cast a smile at Madam Pince and quickly settled herself at an empty table away from the other students. Selecting a few books she needed for her studies, she lost herself in the work. 

  


It was some time later when her rumbling stomach reminded her that dinnertime was approaching. She rolled her shoulders to loosen the knots that long hours in the hard chair had caused and was just about to stand up when Ron burst in the library, red faced and breathing heavily. He skidded to a stop in front of her, looking panicked. "It's Harry," he blurted out before she could say anything. "He collapsed."

  


Hermione left everything at the library table as she and Ron raced toward the hospital wing.

  


  


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"C'mon, Hermione, sit down. You're going to wear a hole in the floor if you keep pacing," Ron said softly.

  


Hermione gave up and flopped into one of the chairs lining the wall. "Sorry. I'm worried. It's got to be bad if Dumbledore and Snape are in there, and it's been ages since you had him brought here. I just want to know what's wrong!"

  


Ron understood. He wanted to know what was happening as well. It had taken him by surprise when the Headmaster and the Potions Master swept into the hospital wing without a word to either of them. He checked the clock. Curfew was approaching, but no one had come out to tell them to leave. As far as he was concerned, he was going to wait here until he was removed or until someone let him know what was wrong.

  


"Mr. Weasley, Miss Granger," McGonagall's stern voice called. They both stood up as their Head of House out walked into the waiting area. Neither of them had seen her pass into Harry's room; Hermione supposed she had gone in when Ron had come to fetch her in the library.

  


"Mr. Weasley, can you tell me what happened before Harry was brought in?"

  


"Sure. We had just finished doing our Divination homework and were about to go find Hermione when Harry just... went rigid and toppled over. He'd been coughing a lot before that, but he'd been doing that even since he came back from... after he..." Ron trailed off, not sure how to word Harry's defeat of Voldemort.

  


"Was there anyone else around when it happened?" McGonagall asked, the picture of efficiency.

  


"No one. Just me and Harry."

  


She nodded. "Thank you, Mr. Weasley. You two better get to your rooms."

  


"Professor... can we... how is Harry?" Hermione asked.

  


McGonagall eyed her star pupil shrewdly. "We're not sure, Miss Granger. He appears to be paralyzed, but even though he's awake, he's not responding to any treatment. I don't recommend that you visit him right now."

  


"Paralyzed!" Hermione couldn't reconcile a paralyzed Harry with the boy she had seen just hours ago.

  


"But..." Ron started to protest.

  


"No buts," McGonagall's tone left no room for argument. "I'll let you know when you can see him, but for now, head back to your dormitory."

  


Ron shuffled his feet and looked dejected. "Yes, Professor," he said glumly. She walked back into the treatment rooms, shutting the door firmly behind her. 

  


"Come on, Ron," Hermione said, "You heard her."

  


They turned to go back to Gryffindor tower right as Professor Flitwick rushed through the door, levitating a student with his wand. "Excuse me!" he shouted, "Coming through. Make way!" Ron and Hermione jumped back against the wall as Flitwick shepherded the rigid second year through the door McGonagall had just entered. They heard Madam Pomfrey give a startled cry before the door slammed shut once more.

  


"Bloody hell, Hermione!" Ron exclaimed. "Did'ya see that? He looked..."

  


"Paralyzed" Hermione noted grimly.

  


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Two days later, after consistently being denied visitation with Harry, Hermione almost wept with joy when a fifth year caught her leaving Arithmancy and told her Dumbledore was looking for her. She shifted her bag to the other arm and set off through the corridors, keeping an eye out from Ron, suspecting he had gotten a similar message when leaving the Divination classroom. She was almost to the Headmaster's office when the Weasley red hair caught her sight.

  


"Ron!", she waved him over. "Are you coming to see Dumbledore too?"

  


He shook his head. "No, I was looking for you. Parvati said she saw you heading this way."

  


"Oh. I thought maybe Dumbledore had news about Harry."

  


"He's the Headmaster, Hermione. Of course he has news, but that doesn't mean that's what he wanted to see you about. Still, you can ask him."

  


"I will. I've got a prefect meeting tonight, but I'll see you after that, OK?"

  


"Right." Ron ran off, probably to catch up with Parvati. The two of them had been getting awfully chummy this year, Hermione thought. She wondered how long it would be before they made it official. She sighed and continued toward the gargoyle that marked Dumbledore's office. Ron had Parvati, Harry had his eye on Mandy Brocklehurst, a seventh year Ravenclaw prefect, but there was no one at Hogwarts that Hermione could even imagine herself with. Most of her male peers were more concerned with having a pretty girl on their arm than having a girl with a brain.

  


She realized she didn't have the password to Dumbledore's office a split second before the door opened. She was alarmed to see Sirius Black standing there. "All right, Hermione?" he asked with a tired smile. "Sirius- how's Harry? They're not letting me or Ron see him. Is it that bad?"

  


Sirius sighed, dragging one hand through his dark, thick hair. It looked as if he hadn't slept in a while. "It's bad. He's having trouble breathing and he can't move anything below his neck. They don't know what's caused it, or how to fix it, but he's not the only one. Dumbledore told me that six other students are in the same situation."

  


"Six!" Hermione was aghast. 

  


He nodded. "I'm heading back to the hospital wing for a while. Do you want me to give him any message?"

  


"Tell him... tell him we'll be there to see him as soon as they let us, and that we miss him."

  


"I'll do that. You'd better go see Dumbledore now. He's been waiting for you." Sirius gave her a quick hug and then walked off in the direction of the hospital wing.

  


Hermione entered the hidden door before it could shut and stood on the staircase, letting it carry her to the Headmaster's office. Dumbledore stood there, a solemn look on his face. "Good afternoon Miss Granger. Please, come in."

  


Hermione settled herself in one of the overstuffed chairs as Dumbledore took a seat behind his desk. He had just offered a cup of tea when Snape walked in, scowling at no one in particular.

  


"Tea, Severus?" Dumbledore asked. Snape shook his head and sat in the other chair, waiting for the Headmaster to begin.

  


"Very well. Miss Granger, no doubt you're wondering how Harry is. I am saddened to say that he is no better, in fact he is getting worse. Madam Pomfrey had to put him on a Muggle breathing machine last night."

  


Hermione was horrified. "Do you know what caused it?"

  


Dumbledore shook his head sadly. "We do not. Nothing we have tried has had any effect. Six other students here have fallen prey to the same illness, and St. Mungo's has reported ten admissions. It appears we have some sort of epidemic on our hands, although the Muggle world has reported no such cases."

  


"Will they...?" Hermione didn't know quite what to say.

  


"At this time, Miss Granger," Snape said quietly, "we know nothing. We don't know if they will live or die. If they live, we do not know if the paralysis will be permanent. The only thing we can tell is that none of our conventional treatments are working."

  


Hermione's head was spinning. Voldemort was finally dead, which meant Harry was free to have a normal life for the first time ever, only Harry was paralyzed and possibly dying. Other witches and wizards were also contracting the mystery illness. Madam Pomfrey was resorting to Muggle medicine, which clearly illustrated the seriousness of the situation.

  


"You didn't ask me here only to update me on Harry's condition, did you, Headmaster?" Hermione asked.

  


Dumbledore folded his hands together on the desk in front of him. "No, I didn't. We need your help with this situation."

  


"My help? But I'm not a medi-witch, sir. What could I do?" Hermione heard Snape give a snort and glared at him before turning back to Dumbledore.

  


"You've got a great mind for research, Miss Granger, and you have a Muggle background. I have a feeling we're going to need that to combat this illness, whatever it is. Wizarding medicine doesn't appear to hold an antidote. I'm asking you to work with Severus on this while Madam Pomfrey takes care of the students in her care. She's got her hands full already and I fear that more students may succumb if a cure is not found soon." Dumbledore regarded her seriously, waiting.

  


"Of course I'll do what I can to help, sir. I don't suppose you have any Muggle medical texts in the library?"

  


"We have a few general books currently, and more are on their way. Anything else you require can be sent for. Now, if you'll excuse me, I must check on the patients." Dumbledore exited the office, leaving Hermione and Snape sitting deep in thought.

  


Snape spoke up first. "What time is your prefect meeting this evening?"

  


"It's at seven, sir."

  


He nodded abruptly and stood. "Eight o'clock in the potions classroom then." With that, he swept out of the office. Hermione, alone at last, buried her face in her hands and cried.


	3. Chapter Three

Hermione broke the news to Ron when the others were at dinner and the tower was deserted. Ron took it even worse than Hermione expected. He was still grieving for Charlie, and the idea that something was threatening Harry's life as well was just too much. Worse yet was that the threat wasn't something tangible. Ron couldn't defeat it, or curse it into oblivion. He could only stand aside and watch while nature played out, and that was something that angered him badly. He was furious at Madam Pomfrey for not being able to heal Harry, with the professors for not letting them visit, with Sirius for being able to see Harry when they couldn't, with Hermione for being the one to break the news, with Harry for being sick in the first place, and with himself for feeling so helpless. Hermione had to patch three holes that Ron punched in the Common Room wall before he stalked off to the boys' dormitory. She could hear him breaking things within and winced. Ginny, who has come to see why Ron and Hermione weren't at dinner and caught the end of the conversation, held Hermione until her tears dried, then went to comfort her brother.

  


Hermione wanted nothing more than to curl up into a ball of misery, but she knew that would do nothing to help Harry. She went to the bathroom, washed her face, and headed to the hospital wing to talk to Madam Pomfrey.

  


The medi-witch was exhausted. She had seven students in various stages of paralysis on her hands and no way to help them, in addition to the normal assortment of broken bones, childish hexes gone awry, student disasters, and an unusual number of untreatable colds. Dumbledore had sent for an assistant from St. Mungo's, but they weren't due to arrive until tomorrow morning. For the time being, Madam Pomfrey was on her own.

  


Hermione stood awkwardly until Madam Pomfrey looked up. "I'm sorry, but you can't see Mr. Potter. He's in no condition for visitors."

  


Hermione hastily assured the medi-witch that she wasn't trying to see her friend. "I actually came to ask you some questions. I'm researching some things for the Headmaster." Madam Pomfrey looked relieved. "Yes, Albus mentioned that you were looking into Muggle medicine for clues to this... this..." she waved her hand, at a loss.

  


"Did any of the students have prior medical problems?" Hermione asked.

  


"Nothing that would cause something of this magnitude," Madam Pomfrey answered. "My first concern was that this had something to do with Harry's battle with You-Know-Who, but then the other students fell ill as well. I've treated all of them in the past, but only for normal things."

  


"Had you seen any of them recently, besides Harry?"

  


"Well, let's see. Melinda Smithfield from Hufflepuff was in here for a slight fever and cold about three weeks ago, and again most recently for a skin rash. Joshua Pennell in Ravenclaw had a broken wrist – flying lesson- and that cough that's going around. Tara Anderson from Slytherin, I believe, also had it, and so did the other three. I've seen half the school for it in the past month."

  


"So the cough is the only link between the patients?" Hermione questioned.

  


"Yes, but like I said, many of the students have been here for that. Most of them have recovered, but it's lingering in a few."

  


"Are they all as bad off as Harry?"

  


Madam Pomfrey sighed. "Right now, only Harry and Pamela Rosen from Ravenclaw are on the Muggle machines- their lungs seem to be paralyzed as well as their limbs. Harry can still turn his head, but Joshua is completely paralyzed. Melinda and Ryan Salter from Slytherin have lost use of their legs. Dierdra Cadwell from Gryffindor can't move her arms, but her legs are stiffening as well. Tara can't move anything below her arms. I expect Joshua to be the next to need a machine, but they're all deteriorating at a pretty steady rate."

  


"I know this might be a long shot," Hermione said, "but is there any chance that the ingredients of the potion for the cough caused an allergic reaction in the patients?"

  


Madam Pomfrey paused thoughtfully. "I don't think so. The contents are pretty standard, from what I understand, and are used in several different potions. If Severus could supply a list of the ingredients in it and other potions he supplies me, we could see if the students have had each of the ingredients them before. It's not standard practice, but if it'd help I can give you the medical records of the paralyzed students. It lists all the potions that I've administered during their time at Hogwarts."

  


Hermione smiled for the first time that evening. "That would be most helpful. Thank you."

  


Madam Pomfrey gathered the records and with a wave of her wand, duplicated the charts for Hermione, who thanked the medi-witch again for her time and left the hospital wing. It seemed too simple, but it was a starting point, and that was more than she'd had before talking to Pomfrey. She walked through the castle deep in thought, almost bumping into Remus Lupin as she rounded a corner.

  


"Hermione? Shouldn't you be at the prefect meeting?" he smiled at her distractedly, worry for Harry clearly marked on his face.

  


"The meeting? Oh no! I was so busy talking to Madam Pomfrey that I almost forgot."

  


"You'd better hurry then. If you have time tomorrow, come by my office." Hermione nodded and ran the rest of the way to the prefect meeting.

  


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"Sorry I'm late", she said breathlessly to Professor McGonagall. "I was in the hospital wing." McGonagall looked up sharply. "Are you feeling all right?"

  


"I'm fine," Hermione hastily reassured her. "I was talking to Madam Pomfrey about the paralysis. I've got a few ideas that I'm going to follow up on." McGonagall's expression relaxed then, and she smiled at Hermione. "Let's get started then, shall we?" She started the meeting by telling the students assembled what Hermione already knew- that several of the students lay in the hospital wing, stricken by some unknown malady. Hermione kept her head bowed, not wanting to face the curious gazes of the others. After a warning to keep an eye out for any students complaining of anything out of the ordinary, she turned the meeting over to the Head Boy, understanding that Hermione was in no condition to lead the the discussion.

  


Hermione tried to keep her mind on her Head Girl duties during the meeting, but found her thoughts wandering to Harry, Ron, and her appointment with Snape. His behavior had not changed after they shared tea in his rooms. He was still rude, insufferable, and, as Ron so succinctly put it, a "greasy git". She was not looking forward to working with him, but she did admire his intellect, and she would do anything to save Harry and the others. 

  


Harry. Harry was on a breathing machine because his lungs refused to work on their own. Harry was stuck in a bed, unable to move on his own, totally dependent on someone to take care of him. Harry, who flew so magnificently in Quidditch matches, who defeated the worst Dark wizard of their time single-handedly, might be dying. 

  


She took a deep breath and let it out again. She couldn't think of Harry just now.

  


She wondered how Ron was doing. She understood his anger, had felt much the same way when her parents were targeted by Voldemort at the beginning of their sixth year. It was easier to yell and break things than face death, whether it came swiftly or not. She was thankful that she hadn't had to deal with the prospect of losing a best friend while her grief was still fresh. She knew Ron was strong, but even strong people broke occasionally. She prayed that Ginny was able to comfort him when she couldn't.

  


After what seemed like an eternity, Draco Malfoy, the Head Boy, called the meeting to a close. McGonagall and the other prefects filed out of the room. Sighing in relief, she almost didn't notice that Draco was still in the room.

  


"Granger." Startled, she looked up and met his gaze. "What is it, Malfoy?" she asked warily. Draco had changed quite a bit since his father's imprisonment, for the better, but almost seven years of animosity did not disappear overnight.

  


Draco looked somewhat embarrassed but determined just the same. "I just wanted to say I'm sorry about Potter. I hope... that he'll be OK."

  


Her expression softened then, and she searched his eyes for malice. "So do I."

  


He looked away, then back at her. "Snape told me about your project. If you'd like, I can take over some of your Head Girl duties, like the nightly rounds, so you have more time to devote to your research."

  


Hermione could hardly believe her ears. Draco Malfoy was offering to help her, a Mudblood? She couldn't resist asking why.

  


Draco shrugged and looked at the ground. Gone was the confident bully from the previous years. "Harry saved my life as well when he killed the Dark Lord. My father was going to make me get the Mark during Christmas break. Now all I have to worry about is studying for my NEWTs."

  


She touched Draco's arm, grateful for his help and thoughtfulness. "Thank you, Draco," she said, using his given name for the first time ever. "I'd appreciate the help." The boy looked relieved, as if he thought his offer would have been laughed at or rejected. He smiled slightly and moved toward the door. "Well, I'd better go then. I've got some homework to take care of."

  


Hermione nodded. "I have to meet Snape in a few minutes."

  


The blonde looked at her once last time, then disappeared into the corridor, leaving her to wonder what other surprises the day could hold.

  


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It was eight o'clock exactly when Hermione knocked on the door to the potions classroom. Snape called for her to come inside, and she found him pouring over a primer on Muggle medical techniques. He barely acknowledged her presence.

  


She placed her bag on one of the tables and moved over to his desk. "Sir?" she said, hoping she wasn't interrupting him in the middle of a paragraph.

  


He looked at her with barely concealed irritation. "What is it?"

  


"I was wondering, sir, if you brew all the potions that Madam Pomfrey uses in the hospital wing."

  


He raised one eyebrow. "Most of them. Some of the seventh years make the simpler ones in detention. Why?"

  


"I was talking to Madam Pomfrey this afternoon. The only connection between the sick students was a cough they'd had. Other students were treated for it as well, but they seem to be fine. I was thinking perhaps a batch of the potion they were treated with was made incorrectly, and they were the ones who took it."

  


Snape looked at her thoughtfully. "Do you know which potion they were treated with?" Hermione pulled the medical charts out of her bag and scanned them briefly. "It was the abigo tussis potion, sir."

  


"Impossible, Miss Granger. For one, I am the only person who brews that at Hogwarts, as the timing must be more exact than many other potions. Secondly, the abigo tussis potion is not made in large batches, but in individual doses."

  


"I had another thought as well. I had wondered if perhaps the students were having an allergic reaction to one of the ingredients. Is that a possibility?"

  


Snape gave her another shrewd look. "Yes, I suppose that's possible. What other potions had they taken before this?"

  


Hermione read off the names of several potions on Tara Anderson's chart. One by one, they eliminated the possibility of allergic reaction by cross-referencing the ingredients in the abigo tussis potion with the potions Tara had taken in the past. Since Tara was not having a reaction to the contents, it was practically guaranteed that an allergic reaction was not the cause of the others' paralysis either. Although it was just the first failed idea, Hermione could not stop herself from feeling disappointed.

  


Snape had always known Hermione was a smart student, but now he knew why Dumbledore had partnered them on this project. Her mind worked logically, something most magic users never mastered. Her first suggestions were ones that he himself had given no thought to, and she had found a connection, albeit a weak one, between the victims. That was more than the teachers had been able to ascertain.

  


He watched her now, pacing the classroom as she thought. He had to bite his tongue to hold back a sarcastic comment, not wanting to break her train of thought. Back and forth she walked, sometimes muttering to herself, stopping short as if an idea had hit her, then pacing once more as she mentally trashed the thought. It was dizzying to see her brilliant mind at work. Finally Snape could take no more.

  


"Sit down, Miss Granger!" he snapped. "Surely you can think just as well in a chair?"

  


Hermione blushed and sat in the closest chair. Snape resumed his reading and Hermione propped her chin on her arms, her mind still on the potion. Recalling that Dumbledore wanted her Muggle expertise, another idea came to mind.

  


"Professor?"

  


"What now?" he scowled.

  


"How much do you know about Muggle chemistry?"

  


"Is that like alchemy?" he asked. As much as he hated admitting to holes in his knowledge, he had sworn to do whatever it took to preserve the lives of the victims. Too many innocents had died at his hands during his short career as a Death Eater. It still haunted him.

  


Hermione smiled at his comparison. "Kind of. Have you ever heard of the periodic table of elements?"

  


Snape shook his head and Hermione launched into a description of elements, groups, compounds, and properties. Snape could not help but be fascinated by the discussion. 

  


"You're saying two gasses can turn into water?" he asked skeptically.

  


"Sure. Two parts hydrogen, one part oxygen. That's why people call water H2O. In fact, hydrogen is referred to as the "building block of life". Its atomic number is 1, the lightest gas and the first on the periodic table."

  


"Amazing. But how does that help us?"

  


"Well, I wondered if perhaps during the potion-making process, some of the elements reacted with each other in a manner that would change the chemical makeup. Sometimes people may have an allergic reaction to, say, hydrogen sulfide, which is two parts hydrogen and one part sulfur, without being allergic to either of the elements in their original, uncompounded form," she explained.

  


He turned the idea over in his head. "Yes, that might explain what happened, but how can we be certain. Are their tests for that sort of thing?"

  


Hermione nodded slowly. "There are, but we don't have any of the proper equipment here, nor do we have the knowledge to run them. We'd have to gain access to a chemistry laboratory first of all, as well as someone with the expertise. I know University of Oxford has the largest department of chemistry in the UK. That would be our best bet."

  


Snape clasped his hands in front of him. "We could always memory charm someone afterwards if need be. Before doing that, however, I'm going to check with the Headmaster and see if we can't get the medical records for the patients at St. Mungo's." He noticed Hermione smothering a yawn and glanced at the clock hanging in the far corner. "I think that is all we can do tonight, Miss Granger. Tomorrow is a Hogsmeade trip is it not?"

  


She nodded and he made some quick calculations. "We'll meet tomorrow at six then. That will give Dumbledore time to get the records for the hospital's patients."

  


Hermione said goodnight to Snape and made her way back to her dorm. It didn't take long before she was in bed and fast asleep, Crookshanks curled at her side.


	4. Chapter Four

After Hermione's parents were killed, she discovered they had more forethought than she ever knew. They had set up a trust for Hermione, handled through a lawyer named William Morgan. Arthur Weasley later told her that Mr. and Mrs. Granger had asked for a recommendation once they learned of Voldemort, someone who could act in Hermione's interests until she was of legal age while allowing her to continue to live in the wizarding world. William Morgan's wife Sophia was a witch, so he was aware of Hogwarts and made sure that Hermione could continue her education without any interference from Muggle social workers. The Granger home was now hers, and her inheritance was deposited into her vault at Gringott's. Anything Hermione needed at a moment's notice could be taken care of with a single owl to Mr. Morgan.

  


She wrote to him now, requesting a mix of Muggle medical texts. She briefly explained the problem facing Harry and the others before sealing the letter with wax and carrying it to the Owlery. He would see the urgency, she knew, and send the books as soon as he was able. There was nothing more to do but wait.

  


She met up with Ron in the Great Hall for breakfast. He was staring dejectedly at a piece of toast when she sat next to him. For a moment, he said nothing, then in a low voice stated, "I was a prat last night. I'm sorry."

  


Hermione's heart went out to him. "Oh, Ron. You weren't being a prat. You've nothing to apologize for."

  


Ron grinned sheepishly. "I broke all the windows in the boy's dorm. Ginny had to fix them when she came in." Hermione couldn't help but laugh. "We'll find a way. Harry will get better, just wait."

  


"Have you figured it out then?" Ron asked around a mouth full of toast. Hermione wrinkled her nose at his lack of table manners and he swallowed quickly. "I've got a hypothesis," she said, and began to explain. He stared at her blankly and she trailed off, unsure how to explain Muggle science to someone like Ron. "Nevermind," he said. "If you think you've got it, I believe you. I don't need to know how."

  


As they finished breakfast, Hermione filled him in on Draco's offer of help. He found it even more unbelievable than she did and asked several times if she was making it up. After swearing for the third time that she wasn't, he reluctantly agreed that perhaps even Draco Malfoy could have a heart.

  


Ron pushed his plate away and grinned. "You're coming to Hogsmeade today, right?" She shook her head and drank the rest of her pumpkin juice. "I'm going to hit the library, see what they have on Muggle medicine. Dumbledore told me there were a few basic books there. The sooner I can figure this out, the sooner we'll have Harry back." 

  


"Want me to come with you?" Ron offered. "I'm not much good at research, and even worse at anything Muggle, but I could keep you company."

  


Hermione had no intentions of cooping her best friend up in a library on a Hogsmeade day when he desperately needed something to take his mind off current events. "I'll be fine. But I think Parvati's going to Hogsmeade too," she smiled at Ron's blush. He excused himself as the girl in question walked by and Hermione gave him a little wave. As she pulled her bag over her shoulder, something made her look at the professors' table. Seated in his usual place near the end of the table was Professor Snape, studying her without his trademark scowl. When she caught his gaze he looked away, but as she left the Great Hall she could feel his eyes on her the entire time.

  


Four hours later, Hermione had a slightly better understanding of Muggle medicine, but was no closer to discovering a cause. She closed the cover on the last medical text in the library. The teachers, Dumbledore had told her, had gone through all the wizarding books already. For the first time in her life, the library didn't seem to hold the answers.

  


She gathered her things together and left, not sure of where she was headed until she found herself standing outside Professor Lupin's classroom. The door was slightly ajar and she thought she heard movement inside. Perhaps a chat with Lupin was just what she needed. She knocked.

  


"Hermione! Come in," he smiled. "Care for some tea? I was just about to make myself some."

  


"Thanks, Professor. That would be lovely."

  


"Call me Remus, Hermione. We're not in class."

  


She grinned ruefully. "Sorry. Why aren't you at Hogsmeade?" He waved at a large stack of parchments spread over his desk. "I'm grading some essays. I'm beginning to think I give too much homework. Why aren't you?"

  


She took the cup Remus offered and blew at the steam before answering. "I was working on Harry's problem in the library, but there's almost nothing there of any use. I never thought I'd say that."

  


They drank the tea in companionable silence while Remus studied his student. She had grown up the last few years, he realized. Her hair had lost its bushy quality and now fell past her shoulders in light waves. She was slender and graceful, of taller than average height. Her figure had finally caught up with the mind. The girl sitting in front of him was now a woman the same age as James and Lily's son. He suddenly felt very old.

  


"Have you been able to see Harry yet?" Remus asked, his thoughts moving to the still figure lying in the hospital wing.

  


Hermione shook her head sadly. "They haven't let either of us see him. I wish they would."

  


"I'll talk to Dumbledore and see what I can arrange."

  


She patted his hand fondly. "Thanks, Remus. I'd better get going. I've got some homework of my own to take care of."

  


Getting the schoolwork out of the way didn't take long. She was going through her Herbology book, reviewing for her NEWTs, when Mandy Brocklehurst approached her in the library. She gestured to an empty chair at Hermione's table. "Could I talk to you for a minute, Hermione?" Mandy was a Ravenclaw prefect, so Hermione suspected she wanted to discuss something from the last meeting. She nodded.

  


Mandy sat down and placed her bag on the table next to Hermione's. "I wanted to ask you how Harry's doing."

  


Hermione shrugged. "You know as much as I do. They're not letting me see him." Mandy looked disappointed "Oh," she said, "I thought for sure they'd let you in, if no one else."

  


"Unfortunately, the Headmaster doesn't agree. Harry's godfather has been in, and as far as I know that's it. Sirius said he looked pretty bad though."

  


"They don't think...?" Mandy looked stricken. "They don't know if he's going to make it. They don't know if any of them are," Hermione said quietly. "He's not breathing on his own. A machine is doing it for him."

  


The other girl stared at her hands, unable to meet Hermione's eyes. "Are you and he... I mean, do you...?"

  


Hermione couldn't hide a smile. Being the closest female friend of The Boy Who Lived, she had gotten that question a lot. Even Ron had been asked once or twice, which horrified him and Harry both. Hermione suspected that Harry would be cheered if she could somehow tell him of Mandy's concern. She had noticed him looking at the pretty brunette quite a lot since the end of sixth year. "No, we're not. We never have been. He's not gay either," she couldn't resist adding with a grin. That brought a smile to Mandy's face. "Well, if you do get to see him, could you let him know I was asking about him?"

  


"Of course", Hermione said reassuringly. "I'll be certain to mention it."

  


  


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By five o'clock, Hermione was a nervous wreck. She had done everything she could possibly think of to pass the time. Ron and the other Gryffindors still weren't back from Hogsmeade, she'd finished all her assignments, none of the Muggle books told her anything about the mysterious illness, and she wasn't allowed to visit Harry. Since her meeting with Snape was to take place over dinnertime, she decided to sneak into the kitchens and grab a bite to eat beforehand. After a quick meal courtesy of Dobby the house-elf, she gave up and went to the potions classroom, half an hour early.

  


Snape was at his desk, parchments littering the work surface. He didn't look up as Hermione entered the room. He put down the parchment he was studying and chose another one, his dark eyes sweeping over the words. After reading everything on it, he set it down by the first. He had hoped she wouldn't return. He didn't want to see the disappointment on her face. Of course, he knew better. Nothing could dissuade her from fighting Potter's battles. She'd shown that time and time again in her years at Hogwarts. Hermione Granger might be a show-off, but she was a loyal and caring one. He hated himself for what he was about to say, but that was no matter. A little more grief wouldn't hurt him.

  


"You're early," he said, in the silky, dangerous voice his students feared.

  


Hermione was too agitated to be apologetic. She raised her chin defiantly. ""Yes."

  


"Sit, Miss Granger." She sat. "Why are you here?"

  


She blinked, confused. "You told me to meet you here, Professor."

  


Snape stood fluidly and moved around to the front of the desk, looming over her. "No, Miss Granger," he whispered, leaning close to her. "Why are you working on this project? Are you prepared for the fact that you may fail? This isn't an exam, girl. Lives are at stake, and if you fail, they die. Can you deal with the blood on your hands if that happens?" She stared at him, trembling, and he leaned even closer, his lips right next to her ear. "Will you be able to look at your face each morning in the mirror if your best isn't good enough, and your precious Potter dies? What then, Miss Granger? How will you deal with the grief that will eat you from inside, that will leave you bitter and cold? I will ask you once more Miss Granger, why are you here?"

  


Each word he whispered landed like a fist to her stomach, caused her to flinch back in revulsion. She remembered with frightening clarity her last conversation with Harry...

  


_'You'll live.... you'll live... you'll live...'_

  


She recalled the last time she saw her parents alive, at King's Cross station. They were so proud of her, their clever witch daughter, but all she was concerned with was boarding the Hogwarts Express and getting back to school. The Muggle world held no place for her anymore; both she and her parents knew it as she hugged them halfheartedly and passed through to platform 9 ¾. She didn't even look back.

  


She didn't look back, and she couldn't save them. 

  


_'You'll live.... you'll live... you'll live...'_

  


Her stomach lurched and she clamped her hands over her mouth as she ran from the room, fighting back tears.

  


Snape watched her go, and had anyone else been in the classroom they would have seen the sadness clearly lining the Potions Master's face for one unguarded moment before the mask slid back down. He had done what he set out to do, he told himself angrily. There was absolutely no reason for it to hurt.

  


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Hermione was running through the school, to the one place she could almost certainly be alone. Her sneaker-clad feet pounded the hard floors and for one crazy moment she wondered if she was running, _to_ someplace, or _from_. Up stairs, past classrooms and offices, she slowed only as she burst through the door into the purple-tinged dusk. She clutched at the half-wall, leaned over and breathed the cooling air in huge gulps. Only then did she let the tears come, in violent waves. Her entire body shook with the force of them. There was nothing quiet or discreet about these tears. They demanded release and she screamed into the night, raw and primal anguish ripping through her until she sobs slowed into the occasional hiccup. All of her energy had been expended on her anger and she weakly slid down to the stone, willing her limbs to stop trembling.

  


"That was some show, Granger. Most people only come up to the Astronomy Tower to snog, you know."

  


Hermione didn't need to look to know who was there. "Fuck off, Malfoy," she hissed, wiping the salty tracks off her face.

  


He didn't. He chose instead to sit next to her, his back pressed against the wall. She sniffed and he wordlessly handed her a linen handkerchief. She looked at it, and him, in disbelief. "I didn't know men carried handkerchiefs anymore." Draco smirked, "A true gentleman always carries a handkerchief for the ladies."

  


She gave a very un-ladylike snort at that statement but took the offering gratefully and tried to repair the damage to her face. By the time she had done all she could, the beautiful cloth was a sodden lump in her hands. She stared at it as if it were something precious. "My father always carried a handkerchief," she whispered to herself.

  


It was a simple statement, but Draco, a master at reading between and behind the lines, heard more love in those words than he'd ever known. "Tell me about him." Hermione looked up sharply, waiting for him to ridicule her Muggle parents or call her a mudblood. Seeing nothing but curiosity on his chiseled face, she hesitated, then began to speak.

  


"Dad and Mum were both dentists. He liked classical music and Renaissance art, literature and the theater. He taught me to play the cello when I was 7. He'd rake the leaves in our backyard into a pile, and when Mum wasn't looking he'd let me roll around in them. We would act out Shakespeare in our living room and drink hot chocolate with marshmallows. He cried the first time he saw me in my dress robes, but swore later that he had something in his eye. When I was little, he'd spin me around in his arms until we were both dizzy and we'd fall to the ground laughing."

  


"What about your Mum?" he asked.

  


"Mum taught me to read when I was three. She bought me my first diary when I learned to write in cursive. She would make up stories for me, full of fantasy and beauty, and was the one who convinced my Dad to let me come to Hogwarts. It was Mum who would comfort me when the other kids teased me about being smart. She would braid my hair at night and tell me about adventures she had at school. She loved the Toothflossing Stringmints I sent her. I had just bought more to send them when I found out..."

  


They sat together as the night turned black. After a while, Draco asked her quietly, "So what's bothering you?"

  


Hermione sighed. "Snape said... some things... when I went to meet him tonight... he asked why I was there, and was I prepared to fail. It wasn't so much what he was saying..."

  


"As how he said it," Draco finished. He shifted, unsure if she would understand what he was about to say.

  


"Look, Hermione... don't take this the wrong way, but Snape was probably trying to run you off."

  


"But why?" she asked sadly. "Am I really that insufferable?"

  


Draco chuckled. "I'm not going to answer that. But if you're going to work on saving those peoples' lives, you have to be prepared for failure. I'm not saying you shouldn't try. You just have to accept that maybe you can't save them, and it's not because you're not clever enough, but because they may be no cure. If you don't understand that going in, if it happens, the blame will drive you mad. I'm willing to bet that Snape wanted to spare you that."

  


"He's still going to work on it though," she argued hotly. "Does he think he's better equipped somehow to deal with the death of innocents through his actions?"

  


He gave her a look that spoke volumes.

  


"My god," she whispered, as the realization dawned, "He's been doing it for years."

  


Draco hesitated, then reached out and squeezed her hand gently. "Snape's not as bad as everyone thinks. He'd rather shoulder all the responsibility by himself than pass it on to someone who doesn't understand." He released her hand and walked back into the castle leaving Hermione alone with her thoughts.


	5. Chapter Five

It was close to midnight when Hermione crept back into the castle. Her time on the Astronomy Tower had been spent contemplating the worst possible scenarios she could imagine- Harry dying and the other living, Harry living and the others dying, all of them dying, all of them living but paralyzed...

  


Over and over she'd thought of the possibilities, mindless of the chill of the night and the dampness of the air. She'd stayed there until she came to her decision.

  


For the first time in her life, Hermione Granger made a choice based on her own needs.

  


She stood now in front of the door she'd only seen once before, the elegant yet disturbed door adorned by two serpents twisting around each other. It was just slightly opened; a sliver of firelight escaped from the inner chamber and danced on the wall behind her. She took a steadying breath and raised her hand to knock, but changed her mind at the last second.

  


She barged right in instead.

  


It must have been the fabled Gryffindor courage that filled her spirit. She strode purposely into the middle of Snape's personal quarters at midnight and glared at the man seated in an overstuffed armchair, who moments before had been engrossed in a volume of Muggle poetry. Ignoring the anger in his eyes at her intrusion, she spoke. "You asked me why, Professor. I didn't tell you before. Let me enlighten you now."

  


She squared her shoulders and raised her voice slightly, giving her words extra emphasis. "You were right to ask the questions you did, but you were not right to presume to scare me away. It is my choice to make, and I have made it. I can live with what-ifs, Professor. I have been living with the what-ifs of my parents' death. What if I hadn't gone to Hogwarts, what if I had been Ravenclaw and not Gryffindor, what if I chose different friends. What-ifs don't change anything. I don't just exist with them, sir, I live with them, and that's a different matter entirely."

  


"If I do my best to make something happen, I can life with the aftermath, even if it's not what I would have chosen or liked. But Professor, there is only one what-if I can't live with, and that's if I don't do anything at all." She leaned over him and placed her mouth close to Snape's cheek, imitating his stance earlier that evening in the classroom. "What if I could save them, Professor Snape?" she whispered. "What if my help allows them one more day to feel the sun warming their cheeks or the wind in their hair? Don't you see? If I don't help, they are no worse off and neither am I, because I gave it my best. But what if I could save them? I do it for the same reasons you do. That, Professor, is why I'm here."

  


Snape turned his head slightly. The smooth skin of her cheek was pressed against his, but he could still see her deep brown eyes, glittering with determination. He slowly closed the book he was holding and leaned backwards, facing her fully. "Twenty points from Gryffindor for being out past curfew and entering a professor's rooms without permission," he hissed.

  


Hermione's cheeks flushed, but she didn't back down. A small smile pulled at his lips almost painfully. 

  


"Fifty points to Gryffindor for that speech, Miss Granger. You will never hear me say this again, but you truly are a credit to your house." His soft voice bore none of its customary sarcasm. 

  


Slowly a smile broke out over Hermione's face. "Thank you, sir."

  


He waved toward the other chair, inviting her to stay for a while. She accepted, and he held up the tome of poetry he had been reading when she came in. "Dylan Thomas", he said conversationally. "Do you know of him?"

  


Hermione couldn't help it; the corners of her lips quirked as she tried to fight a smile. She quoted, "_The force that through the green fuse drives the flower / Drives my green age; that blasts the roots of trees / Is my destroyer. / And I am dumb to tell the crooked rose / My youth is bent by the same wintry fire._"

  


Snape let out a surprised chuckle at her choice of quotes. "Indeed, Miss Granger," he said wryly. He knew those lines were as close to an apology as he was going to get out of her. "You obviously know Thomas well if you can use it to your advantage. What other works have you studied?"

  


She named several right off, confirming his suspicion that they shared a love of poetry and literature. That launched a discussion on the merits and flaws of the classics that lasted a good forty five minutes before Hermione noticed the time. "Oh! I've got to get back! Ron will be frantic if I'm any later."

  


Snape stayed in the armchair long after Hermione left, and stared at the fire. So she had seen through him, he thought. He found the idea didn't bother him as much as it once would have. In fact, all things considered, Miss Granger's late night visit had been a rather pleasant way to pass the time. It wasn't often he had the chance to discuss Muggle poetry with an educated and witty individual.

  


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The next morning at breakfast, Hermione gave Ron an extremely abbreviated version of the previous night's events. She felt bad at leaving so much out, but felt that what had transpired between herself and Snape should stay there. She did, however, tell him about Draco Malfoy and the Astronomy Tower. Ginny and Parvati, who were sitting with them, looked very interested at this juicy tidbit. Hermione had to swear the girls to secrecy to ensure the information didn't become tomorrow's news.

  


"Oh, come on Hermione! Draco's hot!" Parvati said as she buttered a bit of toast. Ron looked mortified. "You can't mean that?" he gasped.

  


Ginny giggled. "Close your mouth, Ron. You look like a fish out of water." 

  


Parvati smiled at Ron shyly. "Sure I do. Draco's a good looking guy, but I prefer redheads." With that, she left the table and exited the Great Hall. Ron opened and shut his mouth wordlessly several times before turning the same shade as his famous Weasley hair.

  


"Oh, look!" Ginny exclaimed. "Owl post." Hermione looked up expectantly; maybe Mr. Morgan's books would be among them.

  


Sure enough, there was a large wrapped parcel, supported by several tawny school owls, swooping her way. She had just enough time to move her cereal bowl before the it crashed down. She was so busy pulling the string off the package that she almost missed the magnificent black owl bearing a single sheet of parchment. She offered the owl a crust of toast which it took with a soft hoot of thanks before soaring towards the Owlery.

  


The letter said simply-

  


_We did not set a meet last night. Six, in my quarters? I trust you know the way._

_-SS_

  


She looked toward his usual seat at the high table. He was there, gazing at her. She gave him a quick smile and nod, then turned her attention back to the books. She had just gotten them unwrapped when Professor Dumbledore made his way over to the Gryffindor table.

  


"Ah, Miss Granger, Mr. Weasley. Sirius Black contacted me this morning about taking you on a small excursion today. You have my permission to leave with him. He will have you back in time for your meeting, Miss Granger," he said, noticing her quizzical look.

  


"Do you know where we're going?" Ron looked interested at a chance to leave school grounds.

  


"I do. I fear this trip will not be for pleasure, however. Sirius is requesting your help with gathering Harry's things from the Dursleys." Ron and Hermione exchanged glances. "He will be at the front gates in half an hour. You are aware that students are not to use magic off of school grounds, correct?" Dumbledore peered at them over the top of his half-moon spectacles.

  


"Yes, Headmaster," they said in unison, although Ron mumbled rather than spoke.

  


Dumbledore leaned closer and said conspiratorially, "Just between you and me, from the time you exit these grounds until the moment you return, you are no longer students." He winked at them, then walked back to the high table leisurely.

  


They stared at each other, wondering if they had somehow misunderstood the Headmaster. As one, they turned to the high table, where Dumbledore winked at them once more and raised his goblet in a silent salute. It was too much. They turned to each other once more and started howling with laughter, raising their own glasses to Albus Dumbledore with heartfelt thanks.

  


When they had finally stopped laughing, some ten minutes later, all Ron could do was wipe the tears of mirth from his eyes and sputter, "Great man, Dumbledore..." That, however, had the unfortunate effect of setting them off all over again. 

  


  


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Hermione and Ron were setting off across the school grounds to meet Sirius when they saw a familiar figure heading towards them.

  


"Hagrid!" Hermione called, pleased to see him outside of class for a change. She'd been so busy lately that she'd had no chance to visit the half-giant at his cottage. 

  


"Afternoon, Ron, Hermione. Ready to meet Sirius?" Ron looked perplexed. "How'd you know?"

  


"Dumbledore asked me to escort you two to the gates and wait with you. No point tempting fate, I say. Could still be dark wizards runnin' around, and you two, Harry Potter's closest chums... well, they might be thinking you'll make a fine trophy."

  


Ron shuddered. "Thanks, Hagrid... I think."

  


"So, Hermione, I hear you're working with Professor Snape to get Harry back on his feet! How's the work coming?"

  


Hermione shrugged, not sure how to word it. "It's confusing. We can't do too much until we get the medical charts of the victims from St. Mungo's. But the Professor is a brilliant man, and he really does care about Harry and the others. I think if there's a way to succeed in this, we'll find it."

  


Ron stopped short, his entire posture showing his shock. "What do you mean, he cares about Harry! This is Snape you're talking about!"

  


"Sure it's Snape, and Hermione's dead on," Hagrid snorted. "He's kept Harry safe all these years, hasn't he?"

  


"Safe and in detention!" Ron shot back.

  


"Ron, stop and think for a minute, will you?," said Hermione, aggravated. "If Snape had shown any kindness toward Harry, don't think think that would have gotten back to the Death Eaters? He couldn't afford that- they would have killed him!"

  


"Yeah, maybe," Ron mumbled, kicking a clump of dirt out of his way. He knew Snape had fought on their side, risking his life over and over to spy on Voldemort and his followers, but he hated the Potions Master and felt more comfortable thinking the arrangement was mutual. He couldn't imagine the greasy professor liking anyone except that git, Malfoy, who was also becoming someone very different than the Malfoy Ron had known. It was all too confusing to deal with. He couldn't help but feel that some things should stay the same.

  


Hagrid changed the subject back to the occamies he had acquired for Care of Magical Creatures. The classes were waiting for their occamy to lay a silver egg. So far, the seventh year Ravenclaws had been the only ones to succeed, although Hagrid swore the Gryffindors were almost there. By the time Hagrid had finished describing the meal he had given the snake-like creatures that morning, they were at the gates of the school, where a large black dog sat waiting.

  


Hermione and Ron said their goodbyes to Hagrid and ran up to the dog, who changed into Sirius. He gave Hermione a hug and shook Ron's hand before leading them to the Three Broomsticks for a butterbeer.

  


"How's Harry?" Ron asked after Rosmerta delivered the drinks to their table.

  


Sirius shook his head and took a long swig from his mug. "No better, but no worse, thankfully. He wanted to talk last time I was there, but the respirator prevented that. You could see the frustration on his face. I'm almost willing to bet he wanted to ask about the next Quidditch match," he smiled ruefully.

  


Ron brightened. If Harry was asking about Quidditch, he couldn't be all that bad, could he? "Tell him the next match isn't until after Christmas. Me and Malfoy both asked Madam Hooch if it could be postponed, since Harry's ill and so is the Slytherin Keeper." He had been worried about that as well. Ron had been voted Captain of the team in fifth year and he played Keeper as well. The team had still been able to hold practices, though no one mentioned the missing Seeker. Ron didn't even want to think about having to replace Harry on the team, even temporarily.

  


Sirius grinned at the redhead. "I'll be sure to tell him. With Hermione and Snape working on the problem, Harry will be out in no time and there's still plenty of time until Christmas for him to get back in shape." It was hard to hold the smile on his face. He knew both Snape and Hermione would try their best, but Sirius was pragmatic. He knew there might not be a way to reverse Harry's damage. He wasn't going to say so to Ron though, not until there was no other option. He caught Hermione's eye and knew she understood.

  


With that out of the way, Ron relaxed considerably. He knew there wasn't anything Hermione couldn't pull off, and even he had to admit, albeit grudgingly, that Snape was smart. Hagrid and Sirius both expected Harry to make a full recovery. He drank the rest of his butterbeer happily. It was only a matter of time until Harry was back with them.

  


"Now listen, you two. I know Harry has his important stuff with him at school, but there's bound to be things at the Dursleys' that he'll want later, and I'd rather save him from having to collect them. We're just going to pinch in there and get his belongings but if I know the Dursleys, and I do, they're going to raise holy hell- sorry, Hermione. I'm going to have to bully them up a bit most likely. While I'm doing that, you just nip upstairs and get Harry's things. Do you know which room is his?"

  


"I do," Ron said, remembering their second year when he helped Harry break out.

  


"Good. I suppose Dumbledore reminded you two that you're still students?"

  


"But we're not," Hermione grinned, "Not until we get back to Hogwarts at least. Dumbledore also pointed that out to us."

  


Sirius threw back his head and laughed. "Merlin bless that man! Let's get going. You both have your apparating licenses?"

  


They nodded. 

  


"To Privet Drive then."

  


The three friends left the pub and disapparated, reappearing in a wooded area in Little Whinging, Surrey.

  


"Where's Harry's house?", Ron asked, confused by all the trees.

  


"This is the closest we can apparate. There's still wards surrounding this area, remember?" Sirius explained. "Privet Drive is about a mile north of here."

  


They tromped out of the woods and followed Sirius's directions. Twenty minutes later, they were knocking on the front door of a perfectly ordinary house on a perfectly ordinary street.


	6. Chapter Six

Hermione recognized Vernon Dursley immediately from King's Cross station. Even when his nephew was nowhere in sight, his face still held a scowl. He stared at Sirius, not recognizing him, but when he saw Ron and Hermione standing behind the tall wizard, his face blanched.

  


"You two!" he sputtered. "What are you doing here?"

  


"Good afternoon, Mr. Dursley," Sirius said pleasantly. "I'm Sirius Black, Harry's godfather. Harry's told me so much about you."

  


Vernon went whiter still, then slowly turned a deep red.

  


"I have nothing to say to your kind," he spat, making the words sound like an insult.

  


"No?" Sirius drawled, clearly enjoying this. "But I have something to say to you."

  


Vernon stood stiffly, waiting. Hermione almost giggled. "Might we come in?" she asked. "The neighbors will think it odd if we stand out here too long."

  


That spurred Vernon into movement. He started to shut the front door, but was blocked by Ron's arm shooting out at the last minute. "They'll think it even odder still if I have to blow this door off the frames, don't you think?" Ron said with an evil grin.

  


Vernon game him a nasty look and stomped back into the living room. They followed him in and closed the door behind them. Vernon stood in the middle of the room, a confused Petunia by his side. "Vernon, that boy!" she shrieked, pointing a long, bony finger at Ron. "That's one of Harry's friends."

  


"Hello, Petunia", Sirius said. "Remember me?"

  


She took one look at him and shrieked. "You stay away from me, you.... you... bastard!" It was Ron and Hermione's turn to be confused. "You know her?" Hermione asked. Sirius sniggered. "Sure I do. I changed her into a millipede once."

  


That was too much from Vernon. He turned a frightening shade of purple and pushed his wife behind him. "_You Stay Away From My Wife_!" he boomed. Petunia shuddered, obviously remembering her time as a bug. Ron made a choking noise and Hermione shook with silent laughter. 

  


Sirius looked at Vernon pityingly. "There, there, Vernon. We've only come to get Harry's things. No need to yell."

  


Vernon's face contorted angrily. "You'll do no such thing. The boy is ours."

  


"I'm afraid not. You see, as Harry's godfather, I have custody of him- in both the wizarding and the Muggle world. I've got the papers right here," Sirius said, withdrawing a packet and waving it toward Vernon, who shrunk back as if expecting it to bite.

  


"Ron, Hermione, go upstairs and start packing Harry's belongings," he said, still looking at Vernon.

  


"Come on," Ron whispered to her. She followed him up to Harry's room, where they collapsed on the bed in laughter. Vernon could still be heard yelling from downstairs.

  


Pulling herself together, Hermione looked around the room in fascination. This was the first time she'd ever been here. It was mostly empty. A small cluster of wizarding photos stood on top of a chest of drawers. She picked one up at random had to blink back the tears. A miniature Harry waved at her from the frame, and Ron gave a blinding smile. Photo-Hermione had her arms thrown over the shoulders of the other two and was laughing. She could clearly remember the day that picture was taken. It was on the Quidditch pitch, after a Gryffindor / Hufflepuff match. They were celebrating Ron's first game and Harry's astounding capture of the snitch. Colin Creevy had snapped the photo before any of the three realized he was standing there. She was touched that Harry still had it.

  


Oh, Harry, she thought. I'm doing my best to save you... I just hope it's enough.

  


She remembered that Ron was still in the room and sniffed quickly. She turned in time to see him emerge from the wardrobe, holding a small leather album. "It looks like a scrapbook," he said. "I'm sure he'll want this."

  


It didn't take long to pack up what little Harry had left here. The album, photos, a few books and some clothes were the only possessions he had here. Ron picked up the box and they went back downstairs to tell Sirius they had finished.

  


"Ready?" he asked them. They nodded and he turned back towards the Dursleys. "Would you like an address where you can write to Harry?" he asked, trying to be polite. 

  


"I don't want any contact with that freak!" Vernon roared. "Let him stay paralyzed! Maybe he'll do us a favor and die!"

  


There was a thud as Ron dropped the box he was carrying. Vernon found himself on the wrong end of two wands held by two very angry individuals. 

  


"Harry saved your miserable little life by defeating Voldemort, you fool!" Hermione spat. "Or maybe you would have preferred to die like James and Lily Potter did. If two fully trained wizards couldn't protect themselves, what chance would you have had?"

  


"If you ever say anything like that again, I'll hex you so badly your own mother won't recognize you!" Ron yelled.

  


It will never be said that Vernon Dursley is a smart man. He looked at the wands, then the people holding them. "You can't do anything to me," he taunted. "You're still students!"

  


Ron smiled nastily. "That's where you're wrong!" He looked at Hermione. "Shall we?" Hermione grinned as well. "I think so," she agreed.

  


"Furnunculus!" "Stupefy!" A boil-covered Vernon fell to the ground, unconscious. Petunia screamed and ran to her husband's side, giving Ron and Hermione a wild-eyed look. Sirius moved to her side. "He's just knocked out," he told her. "He'll be fine." He slid his own wand back into his sleeve. Harry's friends had dispatched Vernon so quickly that he hadn't needed to raise his own wand at all. It would have been too tempting to kill the man where he stood.

  


Petunia nodded stiffly and rose. "Just a minute," she said, leaving the room. Ron and Hermione exchanged nervous glances. Was Petunia going to call the police? The stood there, waiting, until she came back in, carrying a box similar to the one Harry's things were in.

  


"Here," she said, shoving the box at Sirius. He took it with a questioning look on his face. "It's some of Lily's things... from when she was younger... I was saving it for Harry." She looked at the ground. "I _did_ love her, you know. I was just... frightened of what she could do, and maybe a little bit jealous."

  


Sirius regarded Petunia quietly, then cleared his throat. "I'm sorry I turned you into a millipede."

  


Petunia paled a bit but the corner of her lips turned up. "Yes, well, it was a long time ago."

  


"Here. This is a post office box in the closest Muggle town. I set it up for Harry in case you wanted to write him," he handed Petunia a slip of paper. She folded it and placed it in the pocket of her apron, glancing at her husband's still form. "Can you wake him up?" she asked hesitantly.

  


"Oh! Sorry... ennervate," Sirius said with a wave of his wand. Vernon groaned, then stirred a bit. "You're going to have to send him to a doctor for those boils though."

  


Petunia nodded distractedly. "You should go now, before he wakes up."

  


Sirius agreed. "Let's go guys," he said to Ron and Hermione.

  


Quietly, they left 4 Privet Drive and walked back to the woods where they could apparate home to Hogsmeade.

  


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Severus Snape was in a foul mood. He stared at the medical records of the St. Mungo's patients furiously. Four more wizards had been admitted since Dumbledore's request, all of them bad off. Thankfully, no more Hogwarts students had fallen prey.

  


He should have known that the answer wouldn't be as simple as an allergic reaction, even if Muggle chemistry was factored in. The abigo tussis potion, although strong, was relatively common. Surely one of the victims would have taken it in the past. He should have expected it. If he had, he would not be sitting here, now, pissed off.

  


He took a deep breath, forced himself to relax. He had been to see Potter this afternoon, and the others, all in various stages of paralysis. It was unnerving to see the questions in the boy's green eyes when he walked in. Even more disturbing was the rush of relief that had passed over Harry's face when Severus informed him that he and Hermione were working together to find out what had happened.

  


He trusts me, Severus realized. How had that happened?

  


He knew what the students thought of him. He made sure they hated and feared him. It kept them from getting too close, from seeing the broken and lonely man under the mask. He had killed when he was a Death Eater. He did not deserve pity, friends, or forgiveness. Such things were to be treasured, he felt, not given to beings such as himself who were capable of atrocities like he had once committed.

  


Yet Hermione Granger enjoyed talking to him and Harry Potter trusted him. They both knew he had been a Death Eater. They probably did not realize that their actions had granted Severus a certain amount of absolution. 

  


Severus was not the same man he had been when he joined the Death Eaters. That man had been but a boy, fresh out of Hogwarts, seeking knowledge and a sort of camaraderie. He had never had friends at Hogwarts. His father, an ambitious and cunning man, had been Slytherin and had demanded his son be the same. The Sorting Hat had wanted desperately to place him in Ravenclaw, but due to Severus' reclusive nature and persistent begging (Not Ravenclaw, Slytherin! Please, it must be Slytherin!) the hat had relented. It was the first of many choices Severus had come to regret. The other Slytherins formed friendships based on what others could offer them. Severus, smart, quiet, and shy, had little to offer someone hungry for power and recognition. He remained alone, becoming increasingly bitter and sarcastic as the years went by. It was his defense. It was easier to act like he disliked others than own up to his own loneliness.

  


He had been so jealous of James Potter. Contrary to school rumor at the time, Severus had not be in love with Lily. He had been in love with the idea of someone like Lily, which was totally different. He wanted someone to care for him as much as Lily cared for James. He wanted friends like James had, people who liked him and wanted him around. He wanted what James Potter had, and hated him for having what Severus so desperately coveted.

  


He immersed himself with learning the art of potions. It wasn't flashy instantaneous magic, and it wasn't easy. It was subtle, required patience and time, and it was a challenge. Severus was born to be a Potions Master.

  


When he graduated, he was at a loss. Since there were no wizarding universities, there was little he could do other than read books and try to convince Potions Masters to apprentice him. It was his luck to work with one who followed Voldemort. The Dark Lord had snared him with Severus' weak spot- he promised knowledge beyond his wildest dreams and others who understood him. It wasn't a hard choice, but then again, like Dumbledore always said, what's right and what's easy are often two different things.

  


He hated what he was forced to do. Voldemort taught him to kill and torture. He nursed the resentment Severus felt and brought it to the surface. It didn't matter that after doing Voldemort's bidding, he vomited and shook with self-loathing. He had tortured and then killed a man, snatched away his hopes and dreams with two horrible words. He knew he never wanted to do something like that again. Later that night, the Dark Lord had summoned Severus again, this time with a new plan. He was going to kill James Potter and his infant son Harry, and he wanted Severus to do it.

  


He went to the only man he knew could help. Albus Dumbledore had listened to Severus and offered him a chance to return to the side of light. He took it. He started spying for Dumbledore, starting with returning to Voldemort and reporting that the Potters had disappeared, probably with the help of a fidelius charm.

  


He had thought he had saved Potter. He had only delayed the inevitable.

  


Since that night, he had done whatever he could to help others, always anonymously, to ease the suffering he felt at having taken a man's life. He had continued to spy for Dumbledore, refusing to allow someone innocent to be tainted by the Dark Mark. He did his best to protect Harry, although the boy certainly hadn't made it easy or even possible. It was he who had developed the potion that cured Remus Lupin, the result of three years' worth of work. It has been too easy to send Crabbe and Goyle the formula on the night Harry defeated Voldemort, hinting that the Dark Lord had commissioned it and the ministry would do anything to get their hands on it. He knew they would spill it to the aurors in hopes of remaining free. They were too predictable, really.

  


He knew he could not be forgiven for what he had done. He could not forgive himself. Because of that, for seventeen years, he masqueraded as Hogwarts' resident bastard, pushing others away lest they discover the truth. He had almost given up hope that he could gain atonement for his crimes when Hermione Granger burst into his heart with understanding and the words, "I do it for the same reasons you do." A day later, Harry joined her, with his inexplicable trust.

  


At last, Severus felt redeemed.

  


That, however, was not the problem at hand. The problem was that twenty one witches and wizards were paralyzed, and several of them had taken the abigo tussis potion in the past, effectively nixing their one and only theory of an allergic reaction.

  


Snape wanted to kick something.

  


A chuckle drew his attention from the charts to the ancient wizard who had entered the classroom. "You do scowl so magnificently, Severus! I don't think I could ever pull it off- here, let me try," Dumbledore said, drawing his eyebrows together and puckering his mouth. He looked like a man who had just swallowed a lemon.

  


Severus shook his head in amusement. "Not even close, Albus."

  


"Ah, well. I shall have to practice later. Perhaps my mirror could give me some tips."

  


"Perhaps," murmured Severus. "Miss Granger's only theory has just been disproven."

  


"I am sure between the two of you, you'll figure something out," Dumbledore stated, leaving no room for argument. "This just came from Miss Granger. It's been charmed so it doesn't use electricity, as best I can tell." He held up a Muggle device made of metal and a small cardboard box with a letter taped to it.

  


"What is it?" Severus asked. He had spent almost no time in the Muggle world, outside of their bookstores. He had a radio once, after he graduated school, and had charmed a carved wooden box to hold the music it played. If Severus wanted music now, all he had to do was tap the box with his wand and it would choose a tune.

  


"I'm not sure," Dumbledore said, puzzled as well. "Maybe Miss Granger will give us a demonstration sometime. Muggles are fascinating creatures, and they have such inventive creations." He glanced at the clock on the far wall. "It is almost time for your meeting, is it not?"

  


Severus stood up. "We're meeting in my quarters. Since we will be there over dinner, I'll have the house-elves bring something up. We might as well be comfortable while we work. I should go now, in case she comes early."

  


Dumbledore nodded sagely. "Of course."

  


The Headmaster watched Severus leave the classroom, Hermione's parcel held securely under one arm, and smiled. Everything was going just as he'd hoped.


	7. Chapter Seven

Hermione and Ron made it back to Hogwarts with plenty of time before Hermione's meeting with Snape. When they returned to the common room, Ron caught sight of Parvati sitting by the fire and excused himself. Hermione grinned and decided to see if Remus had talked to Dumbledore yet.

  


He had, but the verdict hadn't changed. "I'm sorry, Hermione," he said. "The Headmaster says that none of the students can have any visitors except their parents."

  


"But why?" she asked. 

  


Remus leaned forward and took her hand. "Harry's on life support. If he were removed from it, he would die. Is that how you want to see him?" he asked gently. "Can you imagine Ron's reaction?"

  


She was forced to admit that he was probably right, but she didn't have to like it.

  


A few minutes before six, Hermione knocked on Snape's door. Her bag was filled with the books that William Morgan had sent that morning. He called for her to come in.

  


She sat on the beautiful sofa and started unpacking the texts. "I had my parents' lawyer send these. I haven't had a chance to look them over yet, but there may be something helpful in one of them." She looked up long enough to see the expression on his face. "What? What's wrong?" she asked quickly.

  


He sighed and sat next to her. "Four more wizards checked into St. Mungo's with the same problem. Also, I got the medical charts. Most of them have taken abigo tussis potion in the past." He watched her carefully, waiting for... disappointment, tears, anger, sadness... something.

  


"Well", she said, thoughtfully. "In that case, we'd better get started on the books."

  


Snape wanted to laugh out loud. Merlin's Beard, the girl was surprising. He realized now he had underestimated her and made a mental note not to let it happen again.

  


"Before we do that, something came for you earlier. Dumbledore asked me to pass it on to you." He pointed to the device where it sat on a corner table. Hermione's eyes widened with delight and she jumped up, scanning the note that came along with it. "Bless Mr. Morgan!" she said happily. "I can't believe I didn't ask him for one myself." She tapped it with her wand and peered into the top, grinning all the while.

  


"Err... but what is it?" Snape asked curiously.

  


"Oh!", she exclaimed. "I'd forgotten you didn't know. It's a microscope. These," she said, opening the small box and holding up a tiny slab of glass, "are called slides. You put something on the slide and put the slide here." She demonstrated. "When you turn the microscope on, you look through the top. Whatever you've put on the slide will be magnified. How much is determined by this dial. You can use it to study very tiny things, like germs or cells... er... you do know about germs and cells, right?" she asked.

  


Snape smiled. "Yes, Miss Granger. I do know that much."

  


She looked relieved. "Well, let's get started, then, shall we?" she said primly. She and Snape chose a book each and settled down to start reading.

  


After an hour had passed, Snape was aware that his stomach was growling. He snapped his thin fingers and Dobby appeared, holding a tray laden with food. "Dobby has prepared a good meal for Professor Snape," the house-elf said graciously. "Dobby will just set it here and leave." He placed the tray on the small dining table in by the fireplace and disappeared with a pop.

  


"Shall we?" Snape asked with amusement. Hermione was eyeing the food with undisguised hunger.

  


Each plate was filled with a steak, a loaded baked potato, a salad, and green beans with bacon. "How'd you know this was my favorite meal?" she asked, cutting her steak carefully.

  


Snape looked puzzled. "I didn't. I asked the house-elf to send some sandwiches, but since this is here, we might as well enjoy it."

  


As they ate, he learned more about Hermione's background and interests. They had quite a few common interests, but their formulative years couldn't have been more different. When she spoke of her parents, love was clearly seen on Hermione's face.

  


"What about your parents, Professor?"

  


Snape pushed a few lettuce leaves with his fork. "My mother died when I was three. My father was a hard, callous man. I didn't like him very much, but I feared and respected him. He passed away right before I graduated."

  


"I'm sorry," she said softly.

  


"I'm not," he stood and placed his napkin on the table. "Let's get back to work."

  


A short time later, Hermione looked up with excitement. "I might have found something, called Guillain-Barré Syndrome."

  


She read: "Guillain-Barré Syndrome is a disorder in which the body's immune system attacks part of the peripheral nervous system. The first symptoms of this disorder include varying degrees of weakness or tingling sensations in the legs. These symptoms increase in intensity until the muscles cannot be used at all and the patient is almost totally paralyzed. In these cases, the disorder is life-threatening and is considered a medical emergency. The patient is often put on a respirator to assist with breathing. Usually Guillain-Barré occurs a few days or weeks after the patient has had symptoms of a respiratory or gastrointestinal viral infection. Occasionally, surgery or vaccinations will trigger the syndrome. The disorder can develop over the course of hours or days, or it may take up to 3 to 4 weeks. The body's immune system begins to attack the body itself, causing what is known as an autoimmune disease. Guillain-Barré is called a syndrome rather than a disease because it is not clear that a specific disease-causing agent is involved."

  


Snape nodded slowly. "That does sound remarkably like what we're looking for. I wonder if any of the students felt tingling or numbness?"

  


Hermione thought back to the day Harry collapsed. "I'll bet they did. Harry was playing chess with Ron and I remember his hand shook when he tried to move a piece. He was so intent on the game that he probably didn't take notice at the time."

  


"If this is what's causing the illness, why several at once? It doesn't sound contagious, and why only wizards?" Snape pondered aloud.

  


Hermione flipped a few pages and read farther. "The genes people inherit contribute to their susceptibility for developing an autoimmune disease. Certain diseases such as psoriasis can occur among several members of the same family. This suggests that a specific gene or set of genes predisposes a family member to psoriasis. In addition, individual family members with autoimmune diseases may inherit and share a set of abnormal genes, although they may develop different autoimmune diseases. For example, one first cousin may have lupus, another may have dermatomyositis, and one of their mothers may have rheumatoid arthritis." She looked at Snape. "If the victims had inherited abnormal genes from their parents, that would explain why only they fell ill. As for why only magical people, I might have a theory there as well."

  


She took a deep breath. "I started thinking about this when I got my Hogwarts letter. I have magic, but my parents don't. A wizard born to Muggles is rare. Wizarding parents can have squibs, but it's also rare. Wizards will normally always have more wizards, and Muggles will have Muggle children."

  


"Yes....?" Snape said, not seeing where she was going.

  


"What if magic is caused by a gene, or a set of genes? It could lie dormant in all people, occasionally activating in a few individuals. It would become active in a wizard born to Muggles, or go dormant in a squib born to wizards. The gene, whether active or dormant, would be passed down, but it could change at any time. It also explains Muggle psychics and telekinetics and things- the gene mutated, it could give them a small bit of power, but not as much as they would have if the gene hadn't mutated."

  


Snape stared at her, bewildered. Her theory made perfect sense. It was brilliant, in fact. The only problem is that there appeared to be no correlation between it and the paralysis.

  


She continued, "Viruses are... programed, if you will... to perform a set action or series of actions. If it was set to manifest itself only in people with the active magic gene, of course Muggles wouldn't be contracting the cough that stimulated the Guillain-Barré syndrome! They would be passing it around just like any other bug, but for them it would be harmless..."

  


"...and they could still spread it to any wizards they came in contact with," finished Snape. 

  


"Exactly", said Hermione.

  


"Where would such a virus come from? Could it have been created?"

  


She looked at him thoughtfully. "Yes, but I doubt it. It's terribly hard to manipulate something like that. Viruses mutate all the time on their own. I'm guessing it was probably an ordinary flu bug that became resistant to Muggle medicine or something. That's the reason most strains mutate- to preserve themselves when they're in danger of being wiped out. What we need to concentrate on now is how to cure Guillain-Barré Syndrome."

  


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Very little time had passed when Snape read from his book triumphantly. "A patient stricken with Guillain-Barré Syndrome can be treated with a process called plasmapheresis, which removes plasma and nerve-damaging antibodies from the blood and replaces them with plasma from a donor."

  


"A plasma transfusion," said Hermione. "Of course! Does Madam Pomfrey have the equipment here?"

  


"There's only one way to find out." He stood up fluidly. "Let's go see her."

  


They found Madam Pomfrey sitting quietly in her office, grief marring her features, and Dumbledore patting her hand. She looked up as they entered. "Pamela Rosen just passed away," she announced. 

  


Hermione bit her bottom lip and looked at the wall. Tears rose in her eyes and she forced them down angrily. They had been too late for Pamela, but there was still a chance to save the others. She felt Snape place a comforting hand on her should and felt a wave of gratitude. He had warned her of this, wanted to spare her the pain. She didn't have to look at him to know he was feeling the same way.

  


"I think Miss Granger has found a way to solve the problem," Snape said in a low voice. Madam Pomfrey's eyes shot to Hermione's. "How?" the medi-witch asked.

  


Hermione told her what they had learned. She had a better grasp of Muggle medicine than Hermione thought. The minute everything was explained, she jumped up and clapped her hands. "Well, let's give it a try. We're going to have to do some blood typing on everyone first. You," she pointed to Snape, "are going to learn that. I'll have my hands full overseeing the procedure. My assistant can handle caring for the patients until we know for sure if this works. Now, how to go about the blood typing without a proper microscope...."

  


Hermione grinned. "There's one in Professor Snape's quarters."

  


The medi-witch was delighted. "What are you waiting for, Severus? Go get it!"

  


While Snape retrieved the microscope, Madam Pomfrey filled her assistant in on the development, then spoke to Dumbledore. "I'm going to need teacher to donate blood, possibly a few students as well. We'll have to run some tests on them beforehand, to see which teachers match which patient." Dumbledore inclined his head. "Poppy, you have full permission to do whatever is needed."

  


Madam Pomfrey levitated a machine from a back room and placed it gently next to a chair. It looked like a strange Muggle washing machine.

  


"Miss Granger, I don't suppose you know your blood type?" she asked.

  


"Sure, it's O negative," Hermione answered.

  


"Wonderful! Sit right there. Since Harry's the sickest, we'll try him first. I don't want to lose another patient." Hermione sat and let Madam Pomfrey hook her up to the machine. "Should we start right away?" Hermione asked, concerned. "What's if we're wrong?" Madam Pomfrey waved her hand. "Then it can't hurt. No one's died from a plasma transfusion yet."

  


Snape returned with the microscope and slides. Seeing her sitting with an arm strapped to the chair and tubes taped to her arms, he shot her a look of panic. She smiled at him reassuringly. "I'm the first donor, apparently," she said. "My blood type is compatible with all the others, so we can start while Madam Pomfrey runs the tests on the others."

  


He relaxed a little then, and thumbed through a book which talked about the different blood type testing. It looked easy enough, he thought, studying the pictures intently.

  


Madam Pomfrey asked Dumbledore to gather the other teachers, and had her assistant start gathering blood samples from the victims. Once everyone was busy with their tasks, she wheeled Harry's bed out to where Hermione sat waiting. The respirator was charmed to follow.

  


Hermione gasped when she saw her best friend lying there. She fully understood now why Dumbledore had restricted visitation. Only his eyes seemed alive. A tube was in his mouth, preventing any communication, and his chest rose and fell in time to the beeps from the respirator. Madam Pomfrey inserted the needle into Hermione's arm and tapped the chair with her wand. It reclined and Hermione lay back gratefully. With another tap from the wand, the machine started whirring. Madam Pomfrey inserted the last needle in Harry's arm and stepped back. "There!" she said. "It should take about an hour to finish, dear." She signaled to Snape and they left the room.

  


Madam Pomfrey's assistant returned with five vials of blood, all carefully labeled. Madam Pomfrey pulled several bottles of serum out of her pocket and showed Severus how to test the blood for the different types. He picked it up quickly and had all the patients' blood types carefully noted when Dumbledore returned with the other teachers, minus Professors Lupin and Binns. Once informed of the situation, the teachers lined up to have samples taken and tested.

  


Hermione leaned as close to Harry as she could with one arm strapped. He turned his head to face her. Grasping his limp hand with her free one, she told him what they knew. "I think this will work, and so does Professor Snape. I was worried when Dumbledore paired us up, but he's been wonderful. He's not at all like we thought. We talked about books and poetry the other evening and he even laughed once or twice. I think he's lonely," she said thoughtfully. Harry nodded.

  


"If that's not strange enough for you, wait until I tell you about Draco Malfoy!" She talked to Harry for a half hour, filling him in on the happenings over the past few days. "Oh, and Mandy Brocklehurst asked about you too. I think she fancies you." He blushed but didn't turn his head away. "She's a nice girl, Harry. Ron and Parvati have been spending a lot of time together as well. You'll have to tell me what you think about that when you get out of here."

  


She sat there quietly, holding his hand, and offered up a silent prayer for Harry's recovery. She looked in his green eyes and smiled. "I'm glad I finally got to see you. It was driving me crazy, knowing you were stuck in here all alone." The skin around his eyes crinkled as he returned her smile. They sat there for the rest of the time in silence, Hermione still holding tightly to his hand.

  


The blood typing completed, Snape stood by the doorway, unbeknownst to the two students. He knew the next few days were going to be the hardest thus far, and if it worked, things could get even more complicated. He wasn't sure how much, if any, the two knew about blood magic. Transfusions weren't common with wizards for that reason. Magic that powerful was handled carefully, but there'd been no choice this time. The bond between Hermione and Harry was going to be increased threefold, laced with potent magic that neither one would fully comprehend. They'll probably fancy themselves in love with each other, he thought wryly.

  


Snape turned from the doorway and walked back to the dungeon, his black robes billowing around him.


	8. Chapter Eight

Hermione had just returned from her bath the next morning when she was summoned by Dumbledore. She hastily threw on some robes and piled her hair on top of her head, secured with a few pins. Ron wasn't awake yet, so she told Parvati where she was going and raced to the Headmaster's office.

  


Snape was waiting for her by the gargoyle. "Peppermint patty," he said, and the statue slid to the side. They made their way to the office silently, wondering if the news was good or if their fears had been realized.

  


Dumbledore was sitting behind his desk when they entered. He regarded them thoughtfully, the tips of his fingers barely touching. Hermione came to a stop in front of the Headmaster, Snape standing by her side, as they waited for what he had to say.

  


For several unnerving moments, no one spoke. The silence seemed deafening to Hermione. She was on the verge of screaming, just to ruin that perfect, awful, silence, when Dumbledore smiled.

  


She could feel her eyes widening. "We did it?" she breathed, barely daring to hope.

  


"Indeed you did, Miss Granger. Harry was taken off the respirator this morning."

  


Relieved laughter bubbled up inside Hermione and spilled out before she could stop it. She turned to Snape, a beautiful smile on her lips. "We did it," she said wondrously and threw her arms around him.

  


At first Snape didn't know what to do. It was the first time someone had hugged him in pure, undiluted joy. It felt foreign. But it also felt right. He returned the hug and tried to ignore the Headmaster's widening smile. "Congratulations, Miss Granger," he whispered, giving her a squeeze before reluctantly releasing her. She turned back to Dumbledore excitedly. "When can I see Harry?" she asked.

  


Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. "This afternoon after classes, I think. If you hurry, you can catch Mr. Weasley in the Great Hall and give him the good news."

  


"Oh, thank you sir!" she said breathlessly. She was gone in the next instant, a flurry of robes and retreating footsteps.

  


"She's got a brilliant mind," Dumbledore said, amused.

  


"Yes", Snape agreed, distracted by the lingering scent of perfume clinging to his robes.

  


"Very loyal to those she considers her friends," the Headmaster added.

  


"Umm hmm," Snape murmured, wondering where Dumbledore was going with this conversation.

  


"Quite a catch, according to some of the seventh year males," he said, innocently.

  


Snape was aghast. "A catch? Like a fish? I think not, Albus. Miss Granger is very much her own person, not a trophy to be flaunted. Any man who doesn't realize that isn't worthy of her."

  


Dumbledore raised an eyebrow and said nothing.

  


Snape scowled. "Am I to stand here listening you you extol Miss Granger's virtues, or is there something else you needed?"

  


"No," Dumbledore said blandly, "nothing more, Severus."

  


The Potions Master spun on his heel and left. Dumbledore smiled serenely and picked up a quill. St. Mungo's would need to know about the cure.

  


Classes dragged slowly for Hermione and Ron. Ron was even too excited to sleep through the History of Magic lecture and actually ended up learning something. Defense Against the Dark Arts went faster, since they were partnered with classmates and spent the afternoon hexing and countering. Finally, classes were over and they were free to go to the hospital wing.

  


Madam Pomfrey greeted them with a smile. "Harry's been anxious to see you. Go ahead." They thanked her and pushed open to door to Harry's room.

  


He was lying propped up on a stack of pillows, sporting striped pajamas. His hair was sticking up at odd angles, but his eyes lit up when he saw them.

  


"I was wondering if they were going to let you in today," he said in a very hoarse voice.

  


"Blimey, Harry!" Ron said. "You sound like shit."

  


Hermione elbowed Ron in his ribs and glared.

  


"The breathing tube isn't exactly pleasant," Harry remarked, staring at Hermione. "I'm glad you came."

  


Ron dragged a chair up to Harry's bed. "Can you move yet?" he asked nervously.

  


Harry grinned. "A little bit. I can feel my fingers again, which is cool, but my arms are still pretty useless and my legs are a dead nuisance. Madam Pomfrey said it could take as much as two weeks before I'm fully functioning again, but she doesn't think it will be that long."

  


Ron beamed. "That's great! You'll be back in top form for the Quidditch match."

  


The boys started talking Quidditch, and Hermione just sat there listening happily. It was so good to have Harry back again.

  


The visit was over quickly. Madam Pomfrey came to shoo them out after an hour, ushering Ron into the waiting room. She was about to remove Hermione as well, but Harry pleaded with her to let him have a word with Hermione in private. She hesitated at first, but visibly softened when she looked at the girl. "All right- but only two minutes!" the medi-witch said, and closed to door behind her.

  


Harry and Hermione looked at each other quietly. He smiled softly and whispered, "Thank you." She smiled then as well. "Anytime," she said. They stayed like that, staring into each others' eyes and saying nothing, until Madam Pomfrey knocked on the door and told Hermione her time was up.

  


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Hermione walked around the massive castle, performing her Head Girl duties for the first time since Harry fell ill. That's what she told Ron, at least. She was too lost in thought to do more than give the appearance of doing her job. She wandered the corridors but checking the classrooms and various nooks and crannies the castle held didn't even cross her mind, as it was occupied with other matters. 

  


Her mind was firmly stuck on a pair of brilliant green eyes and the boy to whom those eyes belonged. 

  


She hadn't wanted to leave him in the hospital wing. Had Madam Pomfrey not policed the visitation so effectively, she'd still be sitting there, staring into those emerald depths. She was a bit puzzled as to why, never having experienced the urge to stare at her friend before, but dismissed it as her way of reassuring herself that Harry would be OK. 

  


It was more than that however. Every time she thought of him, she was engulfed in huge waves of emotions. Every maternal instinct she'd ever had, and some she hadn't, came rapidly to the surface. As she and Ron were leaving the hospital wing, he casually mentioned that Harry had dark shadows under his eyes like he hadn't been sleeping well. It had taken every ounce of self control for Hermione not to run back to Harry's side and pull him into her arms. She wanted to give him a cup of warm milk, sing him a lullaby, smooth his hair over his forehead, and hold him in her embrace until he felt safe enough to sleep. She wanted to protect him, and take away his pain. She wanted to... oh, gods, no...

  


Hermione changed directions abruptly and ran to the library.

  


Severus' deft fingers added bits of Jobberknoll feathers to the bubbling cauldron. The potions classroom was deserted, just the way he liked it. It was not yet past curfew, but few students dared to intrude on the dungeons where the vile Professor Snape ruled. It gave him plenty of time to practice his art. 

  


When the last bit of feather touched the surface of the foul looking brew, he leaned forward expectantly. Instantly, the potion turned clear, and iridescent steam rising from the top. Severus breathed in the scent, allowing the moisture to caress his pale skin. Perfection, he thought, and extinguished the fire. It was a small matter to strain the liquid and bottle it. He had the carefully labeled vial placed in his private stores within a minute, in case she should ever want it.

  


Severus sat back at his desk wearily, brushing a strand of greasy hair out of his face. Perhaps that should be his next project, he thought with amusement, a conditioner that was resistant to potion fumes. He'd yet to discover one that could stop his fine hair from becoming lank and filthy after an hour over the cauldrons. But any developing he did would have to wait. He was exhausted from his his classes and the work he was doing for Madam Pomfrey. He'd spent all afternoon helping her with the typing and transfusions.

  


He's seen Miss Granger and her sidekick Weasley heading to Potter's room, and he'd also noted that Weasley had come out alone. Madam Pomfrey told him that Potter had begged for a few more minutes alone with Miss Granger. He felt helpless at the prospect of what was coming, and Severus hated feeling helpless for any reason.

  


He had considered seeking her out, warning her of the ties between her and Potter, but rejected that idea almost immediately. She wouldn't take kindly to interference, he knew. He couldn't blame her. He couldn't fathom sending an anonymous note about so personal a matter. He had almost spoken to Potter about it, but knew that wouldn't be wise. Miss Granger was the one who would listen to reason, he decided, not Potter.

  


Out of options, he'd decided to do nothing. He would watch and wait, and hope Miss Granger's famous intellect would kick in before she found herself driven out of her mind or into Potter's arms.

  


He'd brewed the potion, just in case.

  


Hermione closed the library's copy of _Moste Potente Magick_ in a definite state of shock. This is not good, her confused mind reeled. This is not good at all. This is Very Bad. This is impossible.

  


She was not in love with Harry Potter. She would not allow it. If she couldn't fall in love with him normally, the old fashioned way, she wasn't going to allow any damn magic to do the job for her.

  


Especially magic that had no known counter.

  


She groaned and propped her chin on her hands. She wondered why no one had warned her of this decidedly unpleasant side effect. Not that loving Harry was unpleasant, she thought. It just wasn't what she wanted to do, and she was certain that if Harry were honest with himself, loving her wouldn't have been first on his list of a pleasant way to spend a Monday evening either. To be fair, last night had been hectic, and in their race for the cure, no one had probably even given thought to the repercussions. Besides, even if she had been warned, would it have changed her mind?

  


No, she decided. She'd rather have Harry alive and this quandary on her hands than have Harry dead.

  


This was Not Good At All, she thought once more, and left the library. It was time to get some answers.

  


Severus stepped out of the bath and wrapped a towel around his slim waist. He was feeling in fine form after a pepper-up potion, a cheering charm, and a long soak. He hummed under his breath as he ran a second towel over his legs, back, and chest. Severus had to fight back a smirk as he thought of the look that would surely cross Longbottom's face if he knew the fearsome Professor Snape was even capable of humming. A quick hair drying charm later, he opened the bathroom door and strode into his sitting room.

  


And saw Hermione Granger sitting on his sofa, staring at his bare chest with wide eyes.

  


Severus raised an eyebrow. "Explain yourself, Miss Granger," he said in a low voice.

  


"I'm... sorry, sir," she stuttered. "I didn't think... you were... naked... here, I mean! I didn't think you were here, so I was just.... waiting for you..." she trailed off uncertainly and averted her eyes, a blush rising in her cheeks.

  


Severus bit back a smile. "Make some tea and wait here," he told her. She nodded, still refusing to look at him. He moved into his bedroom and pulled on a heavy velvet robe. Returning to the sitting room, he made himself comfortable in a chair and poured a cup of tea. "Well, Miss Granger?" he asked, "You had something to discuss with me?"

  


She chanced a peek and, finding him fully clothed, seem relieved. "Yes, Professor," she said, her composure regained. "I wanted to thank you for working with me these past few days. I was so excited this morning that it slipped my mind."

  


He sipped the hot liquid carefully. "Perfectly understandable. You're welcome, but you were the one who discovered the problem, not myself."

  


She shrugged. "Only because I had picked up that book before you did."

  


"Regardless. Many people who have skimmed over it without realizing it was what they were looking for. Don't play down your role in this, Miss Granger. You've accomplished something great," Severus told her sternly.

  


She nodded, but Severus could tell her mind was not on his words. He waited to see if anything more would be forthcoming. She did not disappoint him.

  


"There's something else, Professor," she said, shifting slightly.

  


"Oh?"

  


"I seem to be in love with Harry Potter," she said, looking directly into his eyes.


	9. Chapter Nine

  


Severus caught his breath and hesitated before saying anything. He knew if he was going to get through to her, he would have to choose his words very carefully.

  


"Shouldn't you be telling Potter this?" he asked, feigning disinterest.

  


Hermione leaned forward until she was perched on the edge of the couch and gritted her teeth. "I should not," she said, "because it's not real. It's blood magic." She spat the words as if they were dirty.

  


Severus put his teacup down and stared at her. "Hermione," he said, "listen to me carefully."

  


She blinked at the Professor's use of her given name, but said nothing.

  


"What you are feeling is real. It is as real as any love is, only magnified. It's like looking at something under that Muggle mitoscope."

  


"Microscope," she corrected automatically.

  


He waved his hand. "Whatever. What you see under it is larger than before, yes, but it's still real. That is what blood magic is."

  


"But I didn't love Harry before", she wailed. "He's my best friend!"

  


"Ten points to Gryffindor", he said sarcastically. "Think, Hermione. Blood magic doesn't form so strong a bond where there was none before. You gave Potter a gift last night, part of your own essence. You gave him life. That gift magnified what you already felt for him. You loved Potter before last night."

  


She sniffed. "If I had given my blood to one of the other victims, would it be this strong?"

  


Severus shook his head. "No. Blood magic only takes a pre-existing bond and magnifies it. If you had donated to a student you didn't know very well, there would only be a sort of respect between the two of you."

  


"So I do love Harry?"

  


Severus considered his words before speaking. "Yes, but not in the way you're thinking. There are many types of love, Hermione. Love between friends, such as yourself and Potter, or yourself and Weasley, between a mother and her child, between lovers, between people who respect each other. Even trust is a form of love. However, since your friendship love has been magnified and is greater than before, it is trying to cross boundaries."

  


Hermione looked confused. "Boundaries?"

  


Severus sighed. "It's complicated. People set... levels... if you will, for their love. If you love someone so much, they're just a friend, if you love them a little more, they're a better friend, if you love them even more than that, you love them romantically. The boundaries for that, of course, are of your own devising. With the magnification of the existing love you have for Potter, you now believe that you love him as more than a friend, because the emotion has passed some invisible mark you've set."

  


Hermione was silent for a minute, then nodded slowly. "I think I understand, Professor. But what can I do about it? Do I have to somehow reset those levels?"

  


Severus leaned forward and took Hermione's hand. "That is up to you, Hermione. However, if you'll allow a callous man like myself to give you some advice on love, you might find some wisdom there." She smiled at his joke. "When you set boundaries on your love, you also set standards on them, and standards are often difficult to live up to. No one person can be everything to another, even if they spend their whole life trying. When you set boundaries, you'll end up with nothing, Hermione. I think, if you realize that you can love a friend as unconditionally as a lover, and vice versa, your life will become a lot easier and more fulfilling. Lovers are bound to disappoint eventually if you hold them to a higher standard than a friend, solely because they're only human. Do you understand what I'm telling you?"

  


Hermione looked thoughtful. "I should love everyone equally with various kinds of love, and those types of love are not necessarily better than another, or stronger, just directed differently?"

  


"That is precisely what I'm saying," he said, squeezing her hand before releasing it. "Love just is, the same as any other emotion. Emotions are not mean to be labeled, packaged, and contained. They are mean to be experienced and felt, but also sometimes they are meant to be released. That is why there is power in them."

  


Hermione sighed and settled back on the sofa. "I have never looked at it that way." She laughed suddenly, "Do you know what I did when I realized I was in love... or thought I was in love..." she corrected, "with Harry?"

  


"What?" Severus asked.

  


Her eyes twinkled with mirth. "I went to the library," she confided.

  


Severus couldn't help it. He threw back his head and laughed. It was so perfectly Hermione to run to the library when confronted with something she didn't understand.

  


Hermione smiled. His laugh suited him, she thought. It was a deep baritone, throaty and rich. He was attractive when he laughed, she realized. She was glad to see him as he really was, without the mask of bitterness he had worn for so long. The question rose in her mind and came out of her mouth so quickly that she didn't have time to stop it. "Why aren't you always like this, Professor?"

  


His laughter stopped as quickly as it had come, but he didn't look angry, just surprised. "I suppose when you carry an act your whole life, even you start to believe it after a while," he answered soberly.

  


"And what happens when you finally drop that act?" she asked, surprised by her own daring.

  


Severus regarded her thoughtfully. "You feel free."

  


Later that night, as Hermione lay in bed, she ran her speech to Harry over in her mind. She knew she would have to talk to him as soon as possible, preferably when Ron wasn't around. She reached over to the nightstand and fingered the small vial Professor Snape had given her before she left his rooms. It was a memory potion, he explained, that would help Harry remember how he had felt about Hermione before the blood magic took hold. While it wouldn't break their bond, it would allow him to see that his emotions had been changed by the procedure. There was a good chance that once he was armed with that knowledge, and after Hermione's talk, he would be able to get past the transferred feelings of romantic love and everything would return to normal. 

  


She couldn't help but think back on her conversation with the Potions Master. Who knew there was such sensitivity under his facade? She cringed a bit at the memory of all the times Ron had called him a greasy git. Even though it was the attitude he cultivated in the students, the insults must have hurt him badly, especially when he had made them hate and fear him to protect them from his "taint". Hermione hoped he realized that it wasn't necessary. If there was one man in the world deserving of forgiveness, it was Severus Snape. He had done more good than anyone she knew, with the exception of Harry. He didn't know that she knew he was the one who developed the potion that cured Remus Lupin. She had seen the notes one morning before class, the week before Harry defeated the Dark Lord. Then again was the fact that the UK had only one Potions Master with that much talent. She smiled in the darkness and rolled over.

  


It would be her little secret.

  


  


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Hermione swore under her breath and re-tuned the cello once more. During the weeks following Harry's illness, she had started practicing once more. Snape's advice on emotions paid off, she thought for the millionth time. It helped her work past a lot of the residual grief and anger over her parents' death that she hadn't even realized she was carrying around. She could now play the instrument her father had loved so much without bursting into tears.

  


She moved to pick up the bow once more and caught sight of the half-filled application at her feet. She had talked to Professor Lupin about attending a Muggle university after graduation, but she very well couldn't list that she was an alumnus of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Lupin was going to discuss the situation with McGonagall and Dumbledore to see if anything could be done to help her along.

  


It hadn't been an easy decision for her to make. It meant effectively leaving the wizarding world for the time it took to finish her classes, but she felt she owed it to her parents to be certain that the Muggle world held no options for her before devoting her life to magic. She also knew that if she didn't try, it would bother her in the years to come. 

  


She turned her attention away from the troublesome application and back to her cello. She ran the bow across the strings and grinned. Now that it was back in tune, it sounded lovely. She realized she had missed it in the year she had stopped playing. Today, instead of the simple finger exercises and scales she had been doing, she was going to actually play- that is, if she hadn't forgotten how.

  


She pushed the nagging thought out of her mind and took a deep breath. There was no reason to be nervous. She was the only one in the empty classroom. Ron was somewhere with Parvati Patil and Harry was visiting Hagrid. If she made a fool of herself, no one but herself would ever know.

  


_Get on with it, Granger_! she chided. Just do it already.

  


She drew the bow across the strings in light, rapid movements, surprised that she remembered the song so readily. It felt like she'd never quit playing. Hermione closed her eyes and gave herself over to the music.

  


The notes rose and fell, weaving together as if they also were magical. She found herself swaying slightly as she played, losing track of everything except the strings beneath her fingers and the melody rising from the bow. As she drew out the final note, the sound of applause caused her eyes to pop open.

  


Snape was leaning on the doorway, surprise and admiration apparent on his face. Hermione scowled, "What is it with you Slytherins sneaking up on me?"

  


Snape chuckled and walked toward her. "I didn't know you played," he gestured to the cello between her knees. "You're very good. Bach?"

  


"Suiten fur Violincello solo. I'm surprised I remember it. I haven't played anything except scales since my parents died," she said, giving him a small smile. "I thought this wing was deserted."

  


"It is," he said, raising an eyebrow. "The Fat Friar saw you heading up here. I've been looking for you."

  


Curiosity got the best of her. She and Snape had remained on good terms since they had worked together, but there had been no more friendly visits. She had thought about stopping by the dungeons often, but did not want to intrude on him. While his attitude in class was much better, he was still a solitary person. She laid the cello carefully back on its case and grinned. "Pull up a chair," she said, gesturing at several of them clustered in the corner.

  


He did so, then folded his hands carefully in front of him. "The Headmaster has informed me of your university dilemma. I may have a possible solution."

  


"Being?" Hermione asked hopefully.

  


He withdrew a slim envelope from his robes and handed it to her. She opened it curiously and pulled out the top sheet. "Transcript of Hermione Granger," she read aloud, and looked up at him. "Where did you get this?" she asked, barely daring to believe it.

  


"My father had an associate who had Muggle friends in high places," he shrugged. "I just called in a favor. The Headmaster of the Muggle school will give you a top notch reference. Everything's in order, if you want to use it."

  


Hermione stared at the envelope, tears in her eyes. "Thank you, Professor," she whispered. "This is... I... thank you."

  


"Don't mention it", he said dismissively. "It would be a shame if you could not further your education. I've long said that the wizarding world needs universities as well. What are you planning to study at your Muggle college?"

  


Hermione tilted her head, pondering. "I had thought perhaps mathematics, or possibly literature. Math would help me with Arithmancy, but while literature wouldn't help me in the wizarding world, it's compelling. I could also double major if I studied hard enough."

  


Snape smiled wryly. "I don't foresee that being a problem for you."

  


She giggled. "I don't suppose it would be."

  


"Now," he said, "I'd like to ask you for a favor. I know you're busy with preparing for the NEWTs, but your explanation of Muggle chemistry fascinated me. If you have a few hours every now and then, would you consider teaching me more about it?"

  


"Of course, Professor!" she said happily. "You're going to need some equipment though..." She pulled a parchment and quill out of her bag and started making a list. He watched her with amusement. When at last she finished and handed it to him, he nodded to her cello. "Can you play something else?" he asked her.

  


"What? Oh! Sure... anything in particular?" She placed the cello between her knees once more and poised the bow, waiting.

  


"Play whatever you're comfortable with," he said, and settled back to listen.

  


She chose Pachelbel's Canon, running through the entire piece without error, then followed up Greensleeves. She glanced at Snape and found him sitting with his eyes closed, face completely relaxed. Hermione finished the song and moved the cello back to the case. "I should be getting down to dinner," she said, wishing she didn't have to leave so soon. "Harry and Ron will be wondering what happened to me."

  


Snape nodded and stood as well. "Let me know when it would be convenient to start the lessons."

  


She grinned. "Tomorrow at seven?"

  


"That will do," he replied. "Shall I have the house-elves send something up?" She grinned mischievously, "Yes, those sandwiches were excellent." He snorted and rolled his eyes.

  


"Thank you again, Professor," Hermione said shyly. "What you did means a lot to me."

  


"No, Hermione. Thank you." With that, he strolled out of the room as silently as he came, robes flapping behind him.

  



	10. Chapter Ten

The days leading up to Christmas were filled with a flurry of activity. After having completely ignored the holiday the year before, Hermione threw herself into the spirit of Christmas with a vengeance. She decorated her room with garland and tiny fairies that would blink on and off when the lights were out. Crookshanks, to his immense displeasure, now sported a festive red and green bow, complete with three tiny bells that ran through a litany of carols. She had snowball fights with Harry, Ron, Parvati, and Lavender, and hung mistletoe in the Common Room over all of Ron's favorite seats.

  


Professor Dumbledore had announced there would be a holiday mixer performed by the Hogwarts Choir, and a Yule Ball. When reminded that Hogwarts didn't have a choir, he rectified the situation nicely by asking the Sorting Hat to coach select students and teachers. Hermione was one of them, and to her amazement, so was Professor Snape. After hearing each of them sing on their own, the wisest of hats proclaimed that they were to have a duet. When told what the Hat had in mind, Hermione started choking and Seamus Finnegan had to pound her back before she could draw a breath.

  


Snape threw aside the lyrics sheet and argued with the Hat. "I'm not singing that song!" he said, the familiar scowl on his face once more.

  


"It's a lovely holiday tune," the Hat argued back. "Someone's got to sing it."

  


"I can't call Miss Granger 'sweetlips'! It's degrading and ridiculous!" Snape shot back.

  


The Hat was adamant. "Dumbledore specifically asked that this song be a student-teacher duet. It's either you and Miss Granger or Mr. Malfoy and Professor McGonagall. How would the students react to hearing Professor McGonagall call Mr. Malfoy 'honeybunch'?"

  


Draco shot Snape a horrified, pleading look and shook his head vigorously. Snape sighed. "Fine, I'll do it," he snapped, and retrieved the paper. 

  


When she wasn't at choir practice, classes, attending her Head Girl duties, or studying for her NEWTs, she could be found teaching Snape the basics of chemistry. He was a quick learner and started combining what she taught with his potions knowledge to create more potent formulas. She found him in the dungeons one day, holding a bottle filled with cream and a look of triumph on his face. 

  


"What's that?" she asked, pointing.

  


"Just some hair conditioner," he said smoothly, putting it aside. She shrugged and started the lesson.

  


Harry had gotten the courage to ask Mandy Brocklehurst to the Ball. Ron and Parvati, who had announced their relationship shortly after Harry left the hospital wing, were going together as well. Everyone was shocked when Ginny revealed her date was Draco Malfoy. Hermione had turned down one of the Hufflepuff prefects and was planning on going alone when Dean Thomas asked if he could accompany her. His girlfriend attended Beaubaxtons and wouldn't be able to make it for the Ball. Hermione happily agreed.

  


Most of the school had signed up to stay over the holidays, and the Great Hall was filled with parents and students on the night of the mixer. The performers were anxiously rushing around the area behind the stage that had been erected for the event. The Hat was perched on a stool, giving last minute advice between wails of "Where's my robes?" and "There must be hundreds of people out there!". One unfortunate first year clutched at his stomach and rushed to the bathroom. Hermione and Neville stood waiting together, dressed in the heavy white robes for the first number. Neville was nervous about a solo he had later in the program.

  


"What if my voice cracks, or I get stage fright?" he asked, agitated.

  


"You'll be fine, Neville. You were great in practice," Hermione said comfortingly.

  


"Miss Granger is correct, Mr. Longbottom," Snape's voice carried over to them. He appeared from behind a large piece of plywood charmed to look like a snowman. "Just look over the audience's head and you'll do well."

  


Neville looked surprised by the encouragement from the Potions Master, who looked very un-Snape-like in his white robes. "Thank you, sir. I'll try."

  


Snape nodded one and joined a group of other teachers who would be performing as well. Neville looked after him in amazement. "Was it just me, or did Snape's hair look clean?"

  


Somehow, they made it through the majority of the concert without incident. They sang portions from Handel's Messiah, acted out a few skits, and reenacted the Nativity with the ghosts acting as angels. Neville sang beautifully, and one of the sixth year girls performed the Dance of the Sugar Plum Fairy from The Nutcracker, to a standing ovation. Before Hermione knew it, she was being helped into the red dress for the last number- her duet with Professor Snape. Someone shoved her out on the stage, where she practically collided with Snape, who had been the victim of the same treatment from the other side.

  


Professor Dumbledore himself announced them, saying the song was his favorite holiday piece and it would be performed by two of his favorite people. "Hermione Granger and Professor Severus Snape, performing 'Baby, It's Cold Outside'!"

  


Hermione was glad the spotlight shining on them, so she couldn't see anyone in the audience past the second row. She could hear Ron wolf-whistling from someone in the middle and gritted her teeth in embarrassment. She shot Snape a look filled with panic right before the piano started. He leaned close and whispered, "Just play along". Right before Hermione's cue, he placed an arm around her waist and nodded.

  


Dumbledore wanted a show?, Hermione thought. She'd give him one! She placed her hand on his chest, as if to pull away, and laughed in what she hoped was a seductive manner. "Well honeybunch, it's been fun, but gotta run."

  


The students whispered to each other, "Did she just call Snape 'honeybunch'?" Ron and Harry stared in shock. McGonagall choked back a laugh.

  


Snape dipped her back low and leaned close. She could have sworn that he was fighting not to laugh. He said his lines in a loud, clear voice that carried through the Hall. "Oh sweetlips, stay a little while longer won't you?"

  


The Great Hall exploded in laughter. Hermione smiled at Snape and straightened, turning away slightly. "No, it's very late, baby. I really got to go," she said. They acted the rest of the dialogue, before Hermione turned to the audience and sang in a clear, sweet voice, "I really can't stay..."

  


Snape joined in immediately. "...but baby it's cold outside!"

  


"I've got to go away...."

  


"...but baby it's cold outside!"

  


They worked their way through to rest of the song, playing up their lines. The audience burst out in laughter again when Snape sang, "It's not a couch puddin' pop, it's a love seat!". Finally, they were at the end, and as their voices joined together, they clasped hands and sang the last line, "ah, but it's cold outside!". The audience rose to their feet and and it took a very long time for the cheering to stop.

  


As soon as they were backstage, Snape turned to her with a grin. "I can't believe we just had to do that. Dumbledore had better keep an eye on that Hat of his."

  


Hermione's eyes were filled with laughter, "Oh, come on 'honeybunch', once I got in to it, it was kind of fun".

  


Snape smiled evilly. "If you don't watch yourself, Miss Granger, I shall call you 'puddin' pop' for the rest of the year."

  


She howled with laughter and after a moment he joined in. The other performers came up to congratulate them on their number and whisked them off to a "cast party" they had set up. Harry and Ron were waiting for her, and as they chatted happily, Dumbledore came over to offer his thanks on what he said was, "a job well done indeed".

  


¸,ø ¤º°`°º¤ø,¸¸,ø¤º°`°º¤ø,¸¸,ø¤º°`°º¤ø,¸¸,ø¤º°`°º¤ ø,¸¸,ø ¤º°`°º¤ø,¸ 

  


  


  


  


Christmas morning dawned sunny and clear. Hermione woke to a heavy weight on her chest; it was Crookshanks, pawing miserably at his holiday bow. The little bells were ringing out "It Came Upon A Midnight Clear". She laughed and ran her hand down the cat's silky fur. "It's just for one more day. You can handle it."

  


Someone pounded on her door. "Hermione! Come on, we want to open the presents!" Ron yelled.

  


"Coming!", she yelled back. She moved Crookshanks, rolled out of bed, and pulled a green dressing gown over her pajamas. Gathering up the presents at the foot of her bed, she joined her friends in the common room.

  


She received the customary sweater from Mrs. Weasley, along with a tin of cookies. Hagrid gave her a tin of treacle fudge and a small enchanted hippogriff figurine that looked exactly like Buckbeak. It moved around on her palm and preened.

  


Harry's gift was a pensieve, and Ron had assembled an album filled with pictures of her years at Hogwarts. The last few pages were empty, to add shots from the rest of the year, he explained. Sirius sent her a talking mirror, and Remus gave her a book, "Living Magical in a Non-Magical World", which proclaimed itself to be the "number one guide for surviving among Muggles". Ron and Harry caught sight of the book, but didn't say anything. Hermione knew they didn't understand her need to go to a Muggle University.

  


Harry had just picked up his Weasley sweater to put it on when he said, "Hey, Hermione, there's one more under here for you". He passed the small box to her and pulled the sweater over his head.

  


She took it carefully. It was plainly wrapped, with her name written across the front in small print. There was no indication of who has sent it. She was just about to open it when Ron nudged her and said, "He's about to open the box from Sirius". She slipped the box in her pocket and turned her attention to Harry.

  


They watched in silence as Harry lifted the lid. There was a letter lying on top, and he read it carefully. When he looked up, Hermione could tell he was fighting tears. "It's the letter Dumbledore wrote to the Dursleys after my parents died." There was another letter underneath the first, and he read that one aloud.

  


"Harry,

These are a few of Lily's belongings that I've collected over the years. The blanket is one that she knitted for you herself, when she found out she was expecting. It's also the one you were wrapped in when you came to us. The wand she got shortly after her Hogwarts letter. I'm ashamed to say I hid it from her and she had to get a new one, but maybe now that's a good thing. The album has photos of her when we were growing up, and her school letters as well. The necklace was given to her by our parents on the day of her christening.

  


I wish there were more.

Petunia"

  


Harry stared into the box for a long time before pulling out the wand. He ran his fingers over it, remembering Mr. Ollivander's words. "Willow, 10 ¼, swishy. Good for charm work," he murmured before putting it back. He set the box gently on the table and stood. "I'm going to go for a walk. Want to come?" Ron agreed, and they both looked at Hermione. "Go ahead", she waved them away. "I'm going to read for a bit."

  


"Read?", Ron looked shocked. "But it's Christmas!"

  


She gave him a look, and Harry dragged him toward the portrait hole. "See you at dinner!" Harry called back to her, before they disappeared.

  


She gathered up her gifts and returned to her room, reclining on the bed next to Crookshanks. He mewed pathetically and shook his head hard, trying to dislodge the bow, which had moved on to "We Three Kings". She finally took pity on the poor cat and tapped the bow with her wand. It turned back into Crookshanks' normal rhinestoned collar. He purred gratefully and curled up in Hermione's lap for a nap.

  


Hermione stroked his fur, thinking about Sirius' gift to Harry and the Yule ball that night. She knew the boys' liked her gifts; she had gotten Harry a Remembrall that doubled as a snitch, and Ron his own broomstick servicing kit. She had given gifts to Hagrid, Sirius, and Remus as well, like she did every year. This year however, she had also given a gift to Severus Snape.

  


She had asked William Morgan to retrieve the gift from her vault and sent it to her. It was just as she remembered, bound beautifully in leather and decorated with gold leaf. It was her father's prized first edition Lord Byron. She knew Snape could appreciate the gift like no one else. It wasn't right keeping something so beautiful locked up, she thought, not when someone could make use of it. She hoped he liked it, and didn't think her too presumptuous for sending it.

  


She shifted, and felt something digging into her side. It was the small box she had slipped into her pocket earlier. She's completely forgotten it once Harry had opened Lily's things. Hermione pulled it out now and unwrapped it.

  


It was a box from Asprey and Garrard, London's most famous, not to mention expensive, jewelry store. She gasped and tried to imagine who could have possibly purchased something for her from such a store. Slowly, she raised the lid and her breath caught in her throat.

  


It was a platinum cello on a fine chain. The tuning pegs were tiny well cut diamonds and when she reached out to touch it with a trembling fingertip, it began to play Bach's Suiten fur Violincello in low, rich tones. There was no note, but she knew exactly who had sent it. 

  


She met Harry and Ron coming back in the Common Room. They were all wearing their Weasley sweaters, and they were starved. Ron sang dirty versions of Christmas carols as they went to the Great Hall. All signs of the concert the night before had disappeared, and the regular house tables had been brought back in. They took seats at the end of the Gryffindor table and ate cheerfully. Hermione looked at the High table several times, trying to get a glimpse of Professor Snape, but his seat remained empty throughout the meal. 

  


After dinner, it was time to prepare for the Yule Ball. Hermione, as Head Girl, had her own room, and she and Ginny crowded inside to chat and giggle as they got ready. Half a bottle of Sleakeazy's Hair Potion later, Hermione gave up. "It's not going straight, no matter what I do," she wailed. Ginny took one look and sent her back to the shower. "Wash that out, use a drying charm, and let me take care of it," she ordered, and Hermione gratefully obeyed. When Ginny had finished, Hermione's hair had been swept into a loose up-do, with curls tumbling down around her face. Even Hermione, who hated her curls, had to admit that it looked far better than her attempts at straightening. 

  


They took turns making up their faces in front of Hermione's new talking mirror, which proclaimed them to be "absolutely stunning". Ginny put on her gold robes and spun. "Well?" she asked Hermione, her eyes alight.

  


"You look gorgeous. Draco's not going to know what hit him!" Hermione replied with a smile. Ginny's ears went slightly pink. "How do I look?"

  


Ginny took a step back and studied her friend. Hermione was wearing shimmery robes of dark green that left a good deal of shoulder and cleavage exposed. Her hair was lightly glittered and several curls were framing her lovely face, which was lightly made up. "Oh, wait a minute!" she said. She withdrew a box from her trunk and fastened the necklace it held around her throat. "OK, now," Hermione said, and turned back around.

  


"You're beautiful, Hermione," Ginny said enviously, "Even if you are wearing Slytherin colors!" She winked at her friend and Hermione laughed delightedly. "I didn't even realize that, honestly, but you don't have much room to talk. What time is Draco going to be here?"

  


Ginny checked the clock. "Five minutes. We should get to the Common Room. I don't want Ron to be alone with Draco, even if Harry's there. We might not make it to the Ball at all."

  


"Oh, he's not that bad anymore, now that he's had time to get to know Draco again," Hermione said, shutting the door behind her. "I know", Ginny answered, "but he's still my big brother".


	11. Chapter Eleven

Hermione met Dean Thomas on the stairs and smiled. He looked very handsome in purple robes that complimented his chocolate colored skin, and she told him so. He looked back at her with wide eyes. "You look... great!" he said in awe. "I'm going to have to beat the other guys away with a stick,"

  


Ron and Parvati were standing in the Common Room, getting ready to leave. He was wearing plain black robes, and she was clad in red. They looked perfect together, Hermione thought. Parvati's stunning dark looks contrasted Ron's pale skin and bright red hair wonderfully.

  


"Where's Harry?" she asked. "He's gone to fetch Mandy. He'll meet us in the Great Hall," Ron said, with his back to her. He turned to look at her and his jaw dropped. "Bloody hell, 'Mione!" he gasped, staring at her chest. "When did you get...?" He was cut off abruptly by Parvati's well aimed elbow. "What he meant to say, Hermione," Parvati said with amusement, "is that you look fantastic!" Ron smiled weakly, clutching his side. "Yes, that's it. Thank you, dear," he said. Hermione and Dean laughed.

  


Ginny came slowly down the stairs, calling to them, "Is Draco here yet?" Ron took one look at her and turned red. "You're not wearing that?" he asked in disbelief. Ginny looked at him like he were mad. "Of course I am, Ron. That's why it's on me."

  


He shook his head. "Oh no, you're not. I don't want Malfoy pawing at you in those robes. Go change!" Parvati grabbed Ron's arm and tried to intervene. "Ron, Ginny's robes are perfectly lovely. There's no reason for her to change."

  


Ginny had turned the same shade of red as Ron. "I am not changing! Hermione's showing far more boob than I am, and you didn't seem to mind!" Ron looked faint, and Parvati and Hermione giggled behind their hands. Dean shoved his hands in his pockets and whistled.

  


The knock on the portrait saved Ron from further embarrassment. It was Draco, and Ginny shot her brother one last look before taking her date's arm and leaving for the Great Hall. Ron looked murderously at Malfoy's retreating back. Parvati took his hand and said soothingly, "She's an adult now, Ron. She'll be fine." Ron sighed and nodded. "Let's go then," he said grudgingly.

  


The Great Hall looked spectacular. Everyone agreed the teachers had really outdone themselves. It was decorated with white and silver, little clear lights shining from every surface. Professor Flitwick had charmed pieces of white confetti to flutter down like snow and disappear as it landed. Fairies pranced across the air, giving the illusion of a strobe ball. It was, in a word, magical.

  


Students were already on the dance floor. Hermione spotted Harry and Mandy straight off, swaying gently. They were both wearing dark blue robes, and they looked quite cozy indeed. Ginny and Draco made a breathtaking pair- she in her gold robes, and Draco in silver. They were dancing in a far corner. As Hermione watched, Draco whispered something in Ginny's ear and she blushed.

  


"Want to dance?" Dean asked. He urged her out to the floor and wrapped his arms around her. She leaned against his body and let him lead her around the floor.

  


They danced to two slow songs, then a faster tune came on. They left the floor and joined their friends at one of the round tables set up for those not dancing. Hermione sat next to Mandy and gave her a smile. Mandy looked like she were in heaven, and she confided to Hermione that Harry was a wonderful dancer.

  


Ron and Parvati were still out on the floor. He wasn't a skilled dancer, but what he lacked he made up for with enthusiasm. He spun his girlfriend so many times that she was red-faced and laughing, begging for a break.

  


Mandy burst out laughing and Hermione looked to see what had gotten her attention. She pointed to middle of the room, where Harry and McGonagall were jitterbugging together. Hermione could barely believe her beloved teacher could move like that, her face flushed and robes gathered in one hand, held away from her ankles.

  


After that, many student teacher pairs could be seen on the floor. Professor Sprout had a turn with Greg Goyle, Flitwick did the two-step with a fourth year, and Hagrid tangoed with Padma Patil. Hermione herself waltzed with Remus Lupin and tush-pushed with Professor Dumbledore, to the amusement of all.

  


She had suitably recovered from three rounds with Seamus Finnegan when Harry brought her a cup of punch. "Having fun?" he asked, his eyes twinkling. She leaned against him and nodded. "A blast," she agreed. He leaned closer and whispered, "They're going to be playing something special for me soon. I want you to dance it with me." She shot him a questioning look, but he refused to say anything more.

  


She found out soon enough. The band struck up a swing number and she laughed. She had taught Harry to swing dance last year in one of the deserted classrooms. He had gotten really good at it, in fact, something that surprised them both. He lead her on to the dance floor and they began.

  


Hermione could barely believe they both remembered the flips, spins, and jumps, but they moved together as if they'd always done so. She was aware that a crowd had gathered around them, clapping each time they performed a difficult move, but she was aware only of Harry. They kept eye contact throughout the dance, matching each other's moves instinctively. The crowd cheered.

  


When the song ended, they both laughed and hugged each other, gasping for breath. "We're out of practice," she said, and Harry agreed. "I think I'm about to fall over. Let's go sit down." Dean had punch already waiting for them, and she gulped down a cup gratefully, collapsing into her seat. Ron was astounded. "Where's you learn that?" he asked Harry, who pointed at Hermione. "Reflex training," he said, "for Quidditch. It really works!"

  


They chatted through the next few songs, and then went back out to the dance floor. Hermione stayed behind, wanting to watch the dancers and soak up the memory of it all. It had been a wonderful evening. The bandleader announced the last dance and she was just getting up to find a partner when a voice from behind asked, "Might I have this dance, Miss Granger?"

  


She smiled and turned gracefully. "Of course, Professor Snape."

  


They walked to the edge of the floor and he pulled her close. It was a slow waltz, a perfect ending song, she thought. Snape danced well, and together they glided around the room.

  


"I didn't think you were here," she said as they spun.

  


"I wasn't at first. I arrived in time to see you line dancing with Dumbledore," he answered. "I got caught up in a most wonderful book of poetry and lost track of the time," he smiled gently. "Thank you."

  


"And thank you as well. It's breathtaking," she said, looking down at the tiny cello resting against her skin. The diamonds sparkled in the light as they moved.

  


"It was my pleasure," Snape replied. "It suits you."

  


All too soon, the last dance was over and the students started returning to their dormitories. As Hermione walked through the corridors with Dean, who was chatting happily, she brought her hand up to the cello and smiled.

  


¸,ø ¤º°`°º¤ø,¸¸,ø¤º°`°º¤ø,¸¸,ø¤º°`°º¤ø,¸¸,ø¤º°`°º¤ ø,¸¸,ø ¤º°`°º¤ø,¸ 

  


  


It was the event everyone had been waiting for. The day of the Gryffindor / Slytherin Quidditch match had arrived, and both Ron and Harry were practically ill with nerves. They sat huddled together at breakfast with the rest of the team, reviewing plays and picking at their food. Hermione tried to cheer them up.

  


"Look, Harry, you're the best Seeker in the school. Ron, you're an excellent Keeper. You've got wonderful teammates, and besides, it's Slytherin. You always beat them!"

  


"But the Slytherins have got an excellent team this year. Their Keeper is far better than Marcus Flint ever was. Harry's going to have to grab the snitch before Draco in order for us to win," Ron argued.

  


Hermione sighed and tried to coax Dennis Creevy, one of the Chasers, into taking a bit of toast.

  


Ron stood up and clapped his hands. "Alright team! To the pitch!" he ordered. They filed out of the Great Hall and Hermione looked at Ginny helplessly. The redhead shrugged and sipped her pumpkin juice. "Men," she said, and turned her attention back to her plate.

  


Everyone else headed to the Quidditch pitch about a half hour before the game started, to get good seats. Hermione, bundled in her Gryffindor scarf, sat with Ginny, Remus, Hagrid, and Sirius, omniculars clutched in her hands. Ginny had borrowed Ron's pair, and Harry had loaned his to Hagrid. Terry Boot, who had taken over the job of announcer after Lee Jordan had graduated, was leading the crowd through various Quidditch songs.

  


"_And we'll root root root for the Seeker; let's hope that he grabs the snitch! For it's one-hundred fifty points when you play Quidditch_!"

  


Hermione used her omniculars to scan the crowds. She saw McGonagall sitting with some other teachers by the announcer's booth, holding a sign that blinked the names of the Gryffindor players. Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnegan sat nearby. Dean had transfigured his glove into a large foam finger, which was making rude gestures at the Slytherins.

  


A few of the Slytherins were holding up Dementor masks and sniggering. Hagrid stood up, about to go yell at them, but Dumbledore spotted them right afterwards and waved his wand. The Slytherins discovered that their Dementor masks had been changed into Harry's smiling face, and regrouped to come up with a new plan.

  


Hermione and Ginny took mugs of cocoa from a house-elf working the stands and warmed their hands, waiting for the match to begin. Hermione was wondering if she had time to go to the restroom when Terry Boot's magically amplified voice swept over the field.

  


"And here come the Slytherins! Malfoy, Salter, Baddock, Crabbe, Zabini, Pritchard, Nott!"

  


The Slytherins cheered. Dean's foam finger gave the Slytherins the bird.

  


"Let's welcome the Gryffindors! Potter, Weasley, Creevy, Creevy, McDonald, Patil, Perks!"

  


The Gryffindors jumped to their feet and screamed their encouragement. McGonagall's sign blinked excitedly. The Slytherins booed.

  


"Madam Hooch is making Malfoy and Weasley shake hands... and they're off! Gryffindors in possession, Creevy passes to McDonald... look at her go! She shoots, she scores! Gryffindor leads ten-zero!"

  


"Slytherin has the quaffle, Pritchard is making his way to the Gryffindor goal... watch it!"

  


Just as the Slytherin Chaser tried to score, a Beater knocked the Bludger towards Ron. He dodged to avoid it, and the end of his broomstick sent the Quaffle flying back towards the players. Hermione whooped and Hagrid yelled, "Atta boy Ron!"

  


"A fantastic save by Weasley. Playing dirty just doesn't pay, eh, Baddock?"

  


"Boot! Be partial!" McGonagall warned.

  


"Sorry Professor. Gryffindor in possession once more... a fantastic Porskoff Ploy by Parvati Patil! What a flyer! Don't get any ideas boys, she's taken by our own Keeper, Weasley!"

  


Through the omniculars, Hermione could see Ron go red.

  


"McDonald had the quaffle once more, she's aiming... Foul! Foul! That's blagging, you bloody cheater!"

  


"Boot!" McGonagall warned.

  


Zabini had rammed into McDonald, hard enough to make her drop the quaffle. Madam Hooch blew her whistle and called the foul. The quaffle was tossed up once more.

  


Hermione was engrossed in the game, keeping an eye on Harry. Several times it looked like he had spotted the snitch, but he'd yet to catch it. The game went on, with Gryffindor just keeping the lead. At one point, McGonagall relieved Terry Boot of announcing after he called Nott a "dirty cheating son of a bitch" when he and Pritchard tried to knock Ron aside so Zabini could score.

  


Suddenly the crowd was on its feet. Harry had spotted the snitch and was racing toward it, leaning low on his broom. Draco Malfoy saw it too and was closing in. Closer and closer they came, pushing forward. Suddenly, Sally-Ann Perks, a Gryffindor Beater, sent a well aimed bludger in Malfoy's direction and he was forced to avoid it. Harry's fingers closed around the snitch and the crowd went wild.

  


"Gryffindor wins, 220-60!"

  


Hermione and Ginny ran to the pitch, where Harry was being engulfed in a huge team hug about ten feet from the ground. They floated down slowly and the fans joined in. Sirius was patting Harry on the back and saying proudly, "That's my godson! Flies just like his father!" Ron was weeping with joy and embracing both his sister and his girlfriend, and Hermione, all at once. Colin and Dennis Creevy were giving each other high fives and jumping excitedly next to Hagrid. McGonagall rushed forward to congratulate her team, clucking over them like a mother hen. Harry caught Hermione's eye and grinned. In the midst of all the merriment, Draco Malfoy walked up to Ron and stuck his hand out. "Good game, Weasley," he said as the crowd fell silent. 

  


Ron stared at him a moment, saying nothing, before breaking into a large grin. "You too, Malfoy," he replied, shaking Draco's hand. The crowd cheered even louder than before and Ginny gave her brother a kiss on the cheek before walking off with Draco. Ron looked at Hermione and shrugged before spinning her into a hug.

  


Back at the Common Room, the party was in full swing. Seamus and Neville had snuck to the kitchen and returned with large amounts of butterbeer, currant rum, and munchies. Lavender brought her Wizard's Wireless down from her room, and there was plenty of drink, dancing, and conversation. The Creevys' had a stock of trick candies from Weasley's Wizards Wheezles, and before long the floor was covered with molted feathers from one too many Canary Creams. Even Hermione put aside her homework until the next day and joined the celebration that continued until McGonagall came back a second time to send them all to bed.


	12. Chapter Twelve

The next few months flew by. Hermione had cried in McGonagall's arms when she received her acceptance letter from Oxford the week before. Harry and Ron had finally come around about her decision after Remus had a talk with them. She was still tutoring Snape, although less often, as they were in the midst of their NEWTs.

  


The seventh year students were walking around in a daze. It wasn't uncommon to see a student start crying suddenly, for no reason at all. Even the more laid-back pupils admitted to being close to a nervous breakdown. Hermione had fallen asleep in the common room while reviewing work several times already, and it was only the third day of testing. It was, as the other students claimed, Hell Week.

  


The seventh year Gryffindors banded together, with group study sessions in the Common Room that lasted sometimes until two in the morning. Neville Longbottom was so stressed that he threatened to hex anyone who interrupted their work. The underclassmen tiptoed around them, too scared to say a word.

  


Madam Pomfrey kept a steady supply of Pepper-up Potion available for the students, and Hermione felt certain that the Gryffindors alone had exhausted a good deal of her stock. Everyone had dark circles under their eyes and could be heard muttering equations and rules under their breath at meals. Ron wondered aloud how anyone made it to the end of the week without going stark raving nutters.

  


"What's on today's schedule?" Harry asked on Wednesday, trying not to fall asleep in his cornflakes while pouring over his divination book. Hermione checked the list and wanted to cry. "Advanced potions and Transfiguration," she said glumly. Ron groaned. "Of course they'd double those two. They're going to be the hardest of all!" She had to agree. "Fate's playing a cruel joke on us," she whimpered, and thought wistfully of her bed.

  


There was nothing the students could do, however, but make their way into the dungeons for the exam. A stern-faced Professor Snape stood behind his desk menacingly. He looked so much like the "old" Snape that Neville started trembling. They quietly took their seats and waited.

  


"You will see in front of you," Snape said in a low voice that echoed in the large room, "twenty two different potion ingredients. You have two hours to brew as many different potions as you can think of. They must be brewed correctly, or they will not count. You will not know until the week is over how many potions it takes to pass."

  


The class exchanged nervous looks.

  


"You will also be working alone, rather than in pairs. You can have more than one cauldron going at once, if you think you can handle it. Do you understand the instructions?"

  


The students nodded.

  


"Begin," he hissed, and sat back down.

  


Hermione inspected her ingredients. She had asphodel, belladonna, bicorn horn, Billywig stings, black beetle eyes, boomslang skin, Bundimun secretion, caterpillars, daisy roots, Erumpent horn, fluxweed, horned slugs, knotgrass, lionfish, nettles, porcupine quills, puffer-fish eyes, scarab beetles, shrivelfig, snake fangs, spiders, and tubeworms. Ingredients first, she thought. If she prepared the ingredients in advance, she could brew everything without having to worry about anything except the timing. She bowed her head and got to work.

  


Snape stared out over the classroom. Most of the students had already filled several cauldrons and were frantically chopping, peeling, and shredding, trying to get their ingredients ready before they were due to be added. He shook his head and sighed. Would they never learn? He caught sight of Hermione, carefully preparing everything and separating it into small piles. At least one of them had the right idea.

  


It was a nerve-wracking two hours. Neville exploded two cauldrons and melted a third, but he had still managed six perfectly prepared potions. Ron and Harry had eleven each, and Hermione had lined fourteen vials in front of her workspace. She stood nervously while Snape tested each one, then moved on without saying a word. Finally, he dismissed the class and said their scores would be posted that Friday.

  


Transfiguration was no less difficult. McGonagall had set up an obstacle course where the students had to transfigure things to get through and also to block the students behind them. Some of the diversions were quite creative, and the students were pale and shaking when they emerged. 

  


That night, while they sat around the Common Room studying, Neville got an owl from his Grandmother. His parents had passed away that morning in St. Mungo's. He started shaking horribly and Ron ran for McGonagall. She came quickly, wearing a tartan dressing gown, and ushered him to the hospital wing. Harry stared at the wall for a long time, saying nothing. When Hermione placed her hand on his shoulder, he looked at her with tears in his eyes.

  


"I defeated Voldemort, but he's still talking lives. How much longer is it going to take before we're free of him?" he asked quietly. She wrapped her arms around him while he cried, but she didn't have any answers for him. None of the seventh years in Gryffindor tower slept that night.

  


Somehow, they made it through the rest of the week. Neville showed up for the DADA exam the next morning, though he was paler than normal. 

  


On Friday, after the last exam, none of the students felt like celebrating. There was still the worrisome matter of whether or not they passed their NEWTs. Tempers were high in the Common Room as everyone paced and worried, waiting for the announcement that the scores had been posted. When it came, there was a mad dash for the portrait.

  


Apparently the atmosphere in the other houses had been the same. Hermione saw the Slytherins, led by Draco, charging towards the parchment posted just outside the Great Hall that listed their scores. The Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs were already there, pushing and shoving as each student tried to be the first. She tried to see what it said, but there were too many students in front of her, all straining to get a look at their results.

  


Ron burst out of the crowd, grinning wildly. "I passed!" he whooped, grabbing Parvati for a hug. "We all passed! And Hermione got the best scores of anyone, as usual," he said, smiling at her.

  


She felt faint with relief. "You mean it, Ron?"

  


He gestured to the board. "Just shove your way through like I did," he suggested. It took her a few minutes, but she was able to see her scores, and the pronouncement beside it. Se was going to be the Hogwarts valedictorian.

  


She started to cry and laugh at the same time, overwhelmed. She had passed her NEWTs with flying colors and would graduate the next week at the top of her class. She hugged Ron, Harry, Ginny, Parvati, Lavender, Dean, Seamus, Neville, and even Draco. People she didn't even know very well were patting her back and offering their congratulations. Many people asked her if she was planning on joining the ministry and seemed shocked when she mentioned Oxford. After the crowd started to disperse, the other Gryffindors pulled her upstairs. Now that the anxiety was gone, everyone felt like a party was in order. They had passed, they were graduating in a week, and the valedictorian was one of their own. They knew that in a few short days, their time at Hogwarts would be over and they would go their separate ways, but no one discussed it. Tonight was a night for revelry and joy, not sorrow.

  


The party lasted through the night and well into the morning hours, and this time even McGonagall didn't have the heart to interrupt.

  


¸,ø¤º°`°º¤ø,¸¸,ø¤º°`°º¤ø,¸¸,ø¤º°`°º¤ø,¸¸,ø¤º°`°º¤ ø,¸¸,ø¤º°`°º¤ø,¸ 

  


  


The last week sped by. The Gryffindors were given permission by Dumbledore to attend the Longbottom funeral. Neville looked saddened, but strangely calm, as if he had been waiting for this day. Hermione sympathized with him. It would have to be incredibly difficult, she reasoned, to visit your parents year after year, knowing they would never recover. Their deaths were almost a blessing. Now Neville could grieve and move forward with his life.

  


The night before graduation, Hermione made excuses to Ron and Harry and went for a walk around the lake. She felt slightly guilty, knowing tomorrow would be their last day together, but she desperately needed time to piece her thoughts together and reflect. 

  


Hogwarts was her home, and day after tomorrow, she would be leaving it forever. The day she had gotten her letter had been the best day of her life. The friendships she had made within these castle walls would last forever. It was here she had her first kiss and her first crush. Hogwarts had taught her who she was, had molded her into a strong witch, and now it was going to send her out into the world. Alone. Without Ron and Harry by her side for the first time since she was eleven, without her parents there to welcome her. She felt empty inside at the prospect.

  


She stopped at a gravelly spot on the lake's edge and sat down, drawing her knees to her chest. Her first glimpse of the castle had been on this lake, in those tiny boats the first years are loaded into. It had literally taken her breath away as she gazed at the massive stone structure. It had been, until just recently, the only safe place left in the world. How could she leave it?

  


She felt the moisture on her cheeks before she realized she was crying. She wiped at the tears halfheartedly and laughed at herself. She was supposed to be happy, not bawling like a child, yet here she was, doing just that. She was so wrapped up in her thoughts that she didn't hear the footsteps behind her.

  


"Woolgathering, Miss Granger?"

  


She wiped her face and craned her neck to see Snape standing beside her, staring off at the lighted castle. "I'm going to be leaving the day after tomorrow," she whispered.

  


He knelt down beside her comfortably. "I know," he replied, still looking forward.

  


"I don't know how I can leave it. This is the only home I have."

  


He looked at her then with a slight smile. "There are some people who can make a home where ever they are, Hermione. You're one of those people."

  


She sighed. "My parents' house... it feels so empty now that they're gone. I don't know how I will survive a whole summer there alone. Dumbledore gave me the paperwork so I can get it connected to the Floo Network. That will help, at least."

  


"What will you do over the summer? Since you don't have schoolwork or anything, I mean," Snape asked.

  


She smiled slightly. "Eat a lot of pizza and watch a lot of movies, I suppose."

  


He looked confused. She shook her head and laughed for the first time all evening. "I can't even explain it. Pizza is a food, a flat circle of dough, covered with tomato sauce and cheese, and lots of other things like peppers, sausage, mushrooms... even pineapple, if you like it. It's comfort food. And movies are kind of like plays, except they're shown in a theater on a screen, and the actors are nowhere in sight. You can also watch them on television..." she trailed off when she saw her explanation was only confusing him further. "It's just something you have to experience. Trust me."

  


"And where do you go to partake of this pizza?" he said, trying to understand.

  


"Well, you can go to a restaurant, but I typically have it delivered. To my home."

  


He shook his head ruefully. "I should have taken Muggle Studies," he chuckled.

  


An idea struck her. "Do you get free time in the summer?" she asked.

  


"Yes, although I normally stay here."

  


She grabbed his hand. "Come to my house one day. We'll eat pizza and watch movies. It'll be fun, and I don't want to lose contact with the wizarding world," she said boldly.

  


He tilted his head, considering the idea. "All right. Send me an owl with a day and time sometime during the summer."

  


She grinned. "Great! I was worried about being cut off, with Ron and Harry both going straight into auror training. You can fill me in on what's going on when you visit." She looked out at the castle again. "Was it scary to leave?"

  


Snape hesitated, then answered truthfully. "Yes. It was, although not as bad as it may be for you. I didn't have any friends to leave behind."

  


Hermione's heart went out to him. He must have been lonely his entire life. She hoped he knew she considered him a friend, but supposed he did. She still wore the cello under her robes. "How did you deal with it?"

  


He took a deep breath and looked away. "I joined the Death Eaters," he said sardonically.

  


"But you came back," she reminded him gently. When he turned to look at her, she could see the anguish in his eyes. "Not soon enough," he said. "Not nearly soon enough."

  


She leaned against him, offering comfort, and rested her head on his shoulder. He smelled of patchouli and sandalwood, she realized. It was rich and earthy, with a touch of sensuality. Just like Snape, she thought. Without the scowl, he was a beautiful, sensitive man. She couldn't help but think that he deserved far more than he had been given.

  


He hesitated a moment, then wrapped his arm around her shoulder, accepting the comfort she offered him. He told her about his past in halting, uneven sentences. She listened quietly, never once pulling away like he expected her to. When he finished, she touched his cheek gently and turned his face to hers.

  


"You're a good man, Severus Snape. You may have done something horrible in your past, but your actions ever since then have more than made up for it. You killed one man. How many have you saved?"

  


He started to protest, but she held up a hand and interjected.

  


"I'm not saying that man's life didn't matter. It did. However, because he died, many, many more have been saved. Muggles have a saying, 'the needs of many outweigh the needs of a few'. If not for your help, Voldemort might be ruling right now. I would be dead. Harry would be dead. Dumbledore would probably be dead as well. Countless Muggles would be dead, for no better reason than being non-magical. He'd be lording over the world with hatred and fear. You helped stop that, Professor. You told me once that when you release your feelings you feel free. Isn't it time you had freedom of your own?"

  


Snape tried to protest again, then swore. "You always did have a brilliant mind, Hermione. Do you ever not have the right answer?"

  


She smiled at him cheekily and he had to laugh as well. He kissed the top of her head and whispered, "Thank you."

  


They sat together until the moon had risen high in the sky, and the stars shined brightly. On the surface of the lake, the reflection of Hogwarts Castle shimmered and wavered, as if it were no more substantial than a dream.

  


**A/N: **_This will be the last update for two weeks. I already have the story completed, but I'll be on vacation with no way to upload it. Sorry about the delay. ~k._


	13. Chapter Thirteen

It was the day they had looked forward to since first setting foot in the castle. It was the day they had come to dread when it started creeping closer. It was the day that would forever be remembered as a turning point in their lives.

  


The seventh year students stood nervously in formation inside the Great Hall. On the front lawn, chairs had been set up and a stage erected. Hermione looked nervously to her right at Draco. As Head Boy and Girl, they were to lead the procession. McGonagall moved between the two lines, straightening robes, patting shoulders, and looking as if she were about to burst into tears at any moment. The families of the students were being seated, and in a few short minutes, they would walk across the lawn and the ceremony would begin.

  


Hermione looked over her shoulder at her fellow Gryffindors, all lined up carefully behind her. They were clad in black robes similar to their school robes, but they sported pointed wizard hats embroidered with the Hogwarts crest. She and Draco had their Head Boy and Girl Badges pinned to their lapels, and Hermione wore a gold cord around her shoulders, signifying her status as valedictorian.

  


McGonagall reached the front of the lines and sniffed, clasping her hands together briskly. "Remember, when the person in front of you moves, count to three and then move forward. Any questions?" she asked. "No? Then we are ready to begin."

  


On cue, the hired band started to play Pomp and Circumstance, and McGonagall nodded to Hermione and Draco. They walked forward in the slow measured steps McGonagall had coached them on. As they reached the seats, they split apart, Hermione going to the left, and Draco to the right, up the aisles created in the island of chairs. Hermione saw the Weasleys sitting in one of the rows and resisted the urge to wave. Upon reaching their chairs, they remained standing until the last students had walked the aisle, then as one, they took their seats.

  


Professor McGonagall took the stage and smiled at the crowd. "We've come together today to celebrate the graduation of the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry Class of 1998!" The crowd roared its support. "We have a few guest speakers before we present the diplomas. Allow me to present to you, the Minister of Magic, Mr. Percy Weasley."

  


Percy stood to applause and made his way to the podium. "I have always said my years at Hogwarts were the best of my life," he said. "I return here today to celebrate the graduation of my youngest brother, Ronald." Ron groaned audibly and the audience laughed. "The seven years you have spent within these walls have prepared you for the challenges you will face in the outside world. You have been instructed by the finest professors in the field. You have learned from them, grown with them, and now you go into the world to make them proud. It's a lot to live up to, but I know all of you, and know that you are up to the challenge. I wish you the best."

  


After Percy, Dumbledore stood up to speak. "I have seen many classes graduate from this castle, first as a Professor, then as Headmaster. Might I say that this is the finest one yet?"

  


The graduates shouted their approval and clapped.

  


"Rather than drone on and risk sounding like a doddering old fool, I will leave you now with these words. I am proud of each and every one of you. I can tell you're destined for great things, and I hope Hogwarts has given you what you need to fulfill those dreams."

  


"Now, we will hear from our Head Girl and valedictorian, Miss Hermione Granger".

  


Hermione stood nervously and made her way to the podium. Looking out over the sea of faces, she felt a pang of sorrow that her parents weren't here to see this. She opened her mouth to speak but something caught her eye. Her mum and dad stood there, off to the side, waving and smiling widely. She blinked and they were gone again, but that split second had been enough. The nervousness left her and she smiled widely at her classmates.

  


"They say that every man's life is a story; a tapestry of sorrow and joy, anger and triumph woven together with the threads of life. Just as every story must have chapters, so must every life, and today we are embarking on a new chapter of our own."

  


"Up until now, our stories have been only slightly different. Today begins the divergence. Some of us will go on to careers, some are heading for domestic bliss. Some of us will do things other men call great, while some will change the world in smaller, but no less important ways. However, no matter where our lives take us, we will always remember where they began. Here, at Hogwarts, where we learned what we are, and more importantly, what we can become."

  


"I know there is nothing life can send my way that Hogwarts hasn't prepared me for in some manner. Inside these walls, we have been instructed, but now, it is time to take our first steps into the world alone. It is waiting to embrace us with open arms, and I, for one, am looking forward to the challenge."

  


Hermione sat down to wild applause and a standing ovation. McGonagall took over the podium once more and called the graduates forward to receive their diplomas. One by one they filed across the stage, shaking hands with her and Dumbledore before returning to their seats.

  


It was the moment they'd all been waiting for. Dumbledore stood and announced, "I now proclaim the Class of 1998 graduates of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry!"

  


The students cheered and threw their hats into the air.

  


That night, they sat at their house tables one last time for the Leaving Fest. Everyone ate and drank their fill, chatting and laughing. Students moved freely between the tables, making promises to keep in touch with friends and sharing memories. Ron was telling Parvati and Padma about the incident with the troll back in first year, which had them roaring with laughter. 

  


Ginny spent most of her night at the Slytherin table. She sat close to Draco and he had his arm wrapped loosely around her shoulder. Mandy Brocklehurst came to give Harry a hug and promised to owl him over the summer. The teachers moved among the students, saying goodbye and giving them encouragement for the years to come. Hermione saw Professor Snape whisper something to Neville Longbottom that caused him to flush bright red and smile widely.

  


When Neville walked by her, she caught his arm. "What did Snape say to you?" she asked curiously.

  


He grinned. "I finally got the Veritaserum right. I melted four cauldrons on that one potion alone."

  


She gave him a big hug. "I'm glad," she said proudly.

  


Dumbledore called for attention. "It is time to award the House Cup. This year's winner, by 10 points, is...."

  


The students held their breath.

  


"Gryffindor!"

  


"Big surprise, that," Draco muttered, but smiled. Ginny whacked him lightly and cheered with the rest of the students in the Great Hall.

  


"Harry!" Colin Creevy called. "Can I get one last picture of you, with Ron and Hermione? I'll owl you all a copy when I develop it."

  


"Oh, do," Hermione said, tugging Harry's arm. "Who knows when we'll have another chance?" He gave in and the three of them posed, arms around each other and grinning widely.

  


Colin snapped the picture, immortalizing them for posterity, three best friends young and happy in the Great Hall, the rest of their lives spanning out before them.

  


  


¸,ø ¤º°`°º¤ø,¸¸,ø¤º°`°º¤ø,¸¸,ø¤º°`°º¤ø,¸¸,ø¤º°`°º¤ ø,¸¸,ø ¤º°`°º¤ø,¸ 

  


  


  


Hermione sat at the window seat in the Common Room, staring out at the grounds. Her trunk was packed, and Crookshanks was mewing angrily from his wicker carrying case. In a few short minutes, everyone would be leaving for the Hogwarts Express.

  


McGonagall came through the portrait hole to check the students' progress and found her sitting there, emotions clearly shown on her young face. Minerva's heart felt like it was breaking to see her favorite student - former student, she reminded herself - so upset. She placed a hand on her shoulder and said quietly, "Would you like to talk about it, Miss Granger?"

  


Hermione sniffed and turned slightly to face her favorite professor. "It's just... there's no one for me to go home to anymore. Last summer it was bad, but I knew that I would be returning here at the end of the holiday, so it was more bearable. I don't know how I'm going to deal with it." She shook her head ruefully. "I keep telling myself that dwelling on it isn't going to make it better, but I can't seem to stop it."

  


Minerva gathered Hermione in her arms and held her tightly. "I know, child. I know. But you mustn't forget that you have some very good friends, both here and and outside this castle. Don't underestimate them, Miss Granger. You can always come back to visit during the summer as well. Most of us stay here anyway."

  


Hermione returned the hug. "Thank you, Professor."

  


Minerva smiled at her fondly and patted her shoulder. "Now, we have to see about getting everyone on the train. I do hope Longbottom has kept track of his toad."

  


At the Hogsmeade station, the first years were clambering on the train, but the graduates milled around on the platform, talking amongst themselves and putting off the inevitable. Hagrid was there, and he gave Hermione, Ron, and Harry rib-crushing hugs. "Must have something in my eyes," he said hoarsely, scrubbing at them with his huge fists. The three exchanged knowing glances and promised to owl him often. 

  


"You're going to ride the train, Harry?" Ron asked, surprised. "But Sirius lives in Hogsmeade!"

  


Harry nodded sheepishly. "I asked him to meet me at King's Cross. The three of us have always ridden the train together."

  


"Except for second year. Honestly! I still can't believe you did that!" Hermione said, reverting to her bossy tone of voice. The boys grinned widely.

  


"The Ford was there, we were there, the train wasn't. It seemed like a good idea," Ron explained with a shrug.

  


"At the time," Harry added, remembering the painful blows the Weeping Willow scored.

  


The whistle blew, and the students still standing around rushed to board. Harry and Ron had just climbed on, and Hermione was following, when she caught sight of familiar black robes from the corner of her eye. She yelled to Ron, who stood waiting, "I'll be just a moment!" and jumped back down to the platform.

  


Snape stood watching as she closed the distance between them. He looked at her questioningly. "You're going to miss the train," he remarked.

  


She shook her head and grinned. "It'll wait."

  


He nodded briskly. "Goodbye, Hermione", he said, at a loss.

  


"Goodbye, Professor", she whispered. "You still owe me pizza and a movie."

  


He chuckled then, and wrapped his arms around her, drawing her into his embrace. She hugged him back warmly, inhaling his scent as she closed her eyes.

  


The whistle blew once more, and Snape stepped back. "Go now." She laughed and ran for the train, glancing back at him at she climbed the ladder. He stood there stiffly, she thought, proud and alone. And then the doors were closing behind her and the train started to move out of the station. "Back here, Hermione!", Ron waved, and she followed him to the last car where Harry sat waiting.

  


He had seen the entire scene from his window, and looked thoughtfully at Hermione as she settled herself into the seat. She still looked the same, however, and whatever it was he thought he saw, he dismissed it when Ron said, "Hey, we can still see the castle until we go around the bend. Let's watch."

  


The three friends pressed against the glass and looked at the magnificent castle through the trees, the place where they became friends, battled the worst evil imaginable, and came out on top; the place where they learned how to love and hope and dream. Without even being aware of it, they clasped hands as they watched, and it was just like the old times, the three of them, standing strong, ready to face whatever came next.

  


They watched until the train rounded the bend and the castle was out of sight, just another memory to be cherished within their minds.

  


Platform 9 ¾ was packed, as it was every year. They caught sight of Sirius right away, standing next to the Weasleys. The entire clan, even Bill and Percy, had come to the station to welcome Ron home. The three of them could not help but imagine that there was another cheerful redhead standing alongside Molly and Arthur, smiling and congratulating them on becoming fully trained wizards.

  


Ron introduced Parvati to his parents. Arthur shook her hand and Molly hugged her warmly, inviting her to come to the Burrow whenever she wanted. Parvati looked a little surprised by the welcome, but very pleased. "Are they always like this?" she whispered to Hermione, who grinned and nodded.

  


Ginny cleared her throat nervously and stepped forward with Draco. "Mum, Dad.... I'd like you to meet Draco Malfoy. We've been seeing each other since Christmas," she said, raising her chin defiantly, as if daring her family to shun him. Surprise showed clearly on Arthur's face, but only for a moment, before he stepped forward to shake Draco's hand as well. "I'm pleased to meet you, Draco," he said, tactfully not mentioning Lucius. Draco, however, was not going to let it go unsaid.

  


"I wanted to tell you, sir, that my parents' choices are not my own," he said, meeting Arthur's eyes as he shook the other man's hand. Molly's eyes cut over to Ron's quickly, and seeing his small nod, she smiled and reached for the younger boy. "Hello, Draco. It's a pleasure to meet a friend of Ginny's. Will you be visiting us over the summer?"

  


"If that's OK," Draco said hopefully. Arthur smiled. "Of course it is." There were smiles all around at this proclamation and Ginny threw her arms around her father.

  


One by one, the families left the station until only Sirius, Harry, and the Weasleys, with Draco, were left. They were all peering at Hermione in a concerned manner and pretending they weren't. She was touched by their worry, but also a bit irritated that no one would come out and say it, so finally she took matters into her own hands. "Well, I'd better be getting home."

  


"Would you like some company?" Sirius asked, touching her arm gently.

  


She shook her head. "Thank you, but no. I'll be OK."

  


Molly still looked worried, but said, "We're all on the Floo Network, dear, if you need anything at all." She bustled her family out of the station toward one of the cars the Ministry had provided. Sirius and Harry hugged her and left as well, heading to one of the apparation points in the busy station.

  


Hermione looked over at Draco. "What are you still doing here?" she asked. He shrugged. "I don't have anyone to go home to either, remember?" he said, somewhat defensively. Surprised, she didn't say anything at all for a moment. She'd been so wrapped up in her sorrow that she'd forgotten Draco was in a similar situation.

  


Impulsively, she asked, "Want to come over to my house for a while? We can have pizza and watch movies." Her eyes twinkled mischievously at Draco's confusion. "What's pizza and movies?" he asked suspiciously.

  


"There's only one way to find out, and that's to try them." She offered her hand and smiled when he took it. Maybe the summer wouldn't be so bad after all.


	14. Chapter Fourteen

Dear Harry,

  


How is auror training? I hope you're well and working hard. 

  


It's only the second week of vacation and I'm already going nuts. I was able to get rid of my parents' clothes and other things I didn't have the strength for last summer. I've also turned a corner of the yard into an herb garden. There's not much there now, but by next summer I'm going to have a fully functioning magical garden.

  


I introduced Draco to his first "pizza and a movie" session. He comes over once a week now to get his fix. Sometimes he brings Ginny too, which is nice. 

  


With love,

Hermione

  


  


Dear Hermione,

  


Why didn't Remus warn us how hard this is??? I defeated Voldemort, for crying out loud, and I never had to run courses or take endurance training for that. But they tell us that being an auror isn't all magic, we have to be quick, stealthy, and strong as well.

  


They've taught us to meditate. I had to contemplate my navel for an hour yesterday.

  


Your garden sounds nice. I'll visit you as soon as I can.

  


Love, 

Harry

  


  


Dear Hermione,

  


I suppose Harry's told you about training, so I won't. I will just say I'm sore in places I didn't even know I had.

  


Did you hear? Parvati went to visit some family in India, and now she's thinking of staying! I never did tell her how I felt about her. I hope she hasn't gone off me. I'll bet Mum showed her my baby pictures, and that's what did it. I think I need damage control.

  


Harry's told me about Draco and Ginny visiting. You don't leave them alone, do you?

  


Love, 

Ron

  


  


Dear Ron,

  


You are an idiot. Owl her and tell her. Girls like baby pictures, so it's not that.

  


Ginny's an adult now, Ron. I trust her, and besides, she's not going to get to see Draco at all once school starts. A little time alone won't hurt them.

  


With love, 

Hermione

  


Dear Hermione,

  


How's your summer going? I am in France right now, visiting Jeanette. It's good to see her again.

  


Good news! I'm a reserve player for the West Ham soccer team!

  


Your friend, 

Dean

  


  


Dear Dean,

  


That's wonderful! I knew you could do it! My summer is going well. I've been keeping busy, at least.

  


I'm jealous. I'd love to see France.

  


Your friend,

Hermione

  


  


Dear Hermione,

  


Did you see the article in the Daily Prophet? If not, I've opened my own herb show in Diagon Alley. Come see me sometime- it's right next to Eeylops Owl Emporium. My first customer was, believe it or not, Professor Snape. I know very well he can get any of the herbs he purchased at Hogwarts from Madam Sprout.

  


Your friend,

Neville

  


  


Dear Neville,

  


I saw it- I think that's great! You always were skilled in herbology. I'm trying my hand at a garden myself, but I'm afraid it's nowhere near as good as your would be. My dittany keeps dying, no matter what I do.

  


I'll be sure to stop by next time I'm in Diagon Alley. I'm there every few days to use the Post Owls.

  


Until then,

Hermione

  


  


Dear Professor Snape,

  


I haven't forgotten your promise. How is this Friday at five? I've got a collection of movies here, but if none of those look good, we can go rent some. You should bring some Muggle clothes, just in case.

  


Fondly,

Hermione

  


  


Dear Hermione,

Friday is fine. I will apparate to your home, rather than using the Floo Network, since I have a few errands to run first.

  


Regards,

Prof. Severus Snape

  


¸,ø ¤º°`°º¤ø,¸¸,ø¤º°`°º¤ø,¸¸,ø¤º°`°º¤ø,¸¸,ø¤º°`°º¤ ø,¸¸,ø ¤º°`°º¤ø,¸ 

  


  


It was a few minutes before five when the knock sounded at her door. Hermione hurried to answer it, pausing only to turn down the stereo she had been blasting. 

  


Snape stood on her doorstep, holding a large... something... covered with a black cloth. He was dressed in Muggle clothes and looked so different that Hermione stared for a moment before opening the door wider to welcome him in. "Hello, Professor," she said, smiling widely, "Welcome to my home."

  


It was his skin, she realized. Gone was the sallow complexion she had always known him to have. His complexion was actually olive, and now looked healthy. His hair was combed neatly and pulled back at the nape of his neck. He was still clad in all black, but he wore a button down silk shirt with a high collar and sleek black slacks. He looked good as a Muggle, she realized, and bit back a giggle. Ron and Harry would never believe this.

  


"Good evening, Hermione." He looked at little worried at her silent inspection. "I was told this is proper Muggle attire. Was I misled?"

  


"Oh! No, not at all, sorry. You just look so different in anything other than your robes. It looks good though," she hastily reassured him, shutting the door behind them. "How's your summer been so far?" she asked.

  


"Madam Sprout has had me in the gardens, helping with next year's herbs. She claims it's not healthy to stay in the dungeons all the time," he said with a wry grin. Ah, she thought, that explains the complexion change.

  


"This is for you," he said, holding out the... thing... he had been carrying. He placed it on the coffee table and looked at her expectantly. She studied it carefully before removing the cloth.

  


It was a cage, containing a large tawny male owl. Hermione's jaw dropped and she turned to stare at Snape in shock. He scowled. "Your post owl fainted in my porridge. I don't relish the taste of feathers."

  


She burst out laughing and turned back to the owl, who hooted softly. "Hi there little guy. Do you have a name?"

  


Snape smiled. "Not yet."

  


"I'll call you Nova then. Do you like that?" she asked the owl, letting him nip her finger. The owl fluttered his wings and hooted again.

  


"Nova, as in the alchemist?" Snape asked, bending to watch the owl and Hermione interact. "Of course," she answered, delighted. "Thank you, Professor."

  


He smiled and straightened. "You're no longer a student, Hermione. Call me Severus."

  


"All right then. Let me take Nova up to my room. I'll be right back... feel free to look around," she called, heading up the stairs with the cage.

  


Severus wandered over to something large, that looked like a black box partially covered with cloth. It was making music like his old radio had, but it didn't look anything like it. There were no dials, for one thing. He poked it with a finger. Nothing happened. He checked the back, and saw a wire running from the bottom. He was about to follow the wire's path when a loud bell chimed. He jumped back guiltily and looked around.

  


"Can you get the door?" Hermione's voice called from upstairs. "It's the pizza guy. Tell him I'll be right down."

  


Severus strode to the front door and opened it. "Hello," he told the teenager who stood on the steps, holding two two flat boxes.

  


"Hello," the boy answered, "Got your pizza."

  


"Oh. Um. Come in?" Severus held the door open and the boy walked in, looking at him pointedly.

  


"She'll be right down," Severus said, stalling. He had no idea what was expected of him, and the boxes the boy held were giving off the most delicious aromas. Thankfully, he was saved by Hermione, who was coming down the stairs. She paid the delivery boy and took the boxes, moving with them into the dining room. She retrieved two plates and Severus lifted the top of one of the boxes with a finger. He was assaulted by the scent of cheese, spices, and tomato sauce. His mouth started to water.

  


"Soda OK?" Hermione asked, returning with the plated and two cans of Coke. He, not knowing what soda was, just nodded and turned his attention back to the pizza. Hermione reached for it, plopped a few slices on a plate, and handed it to him. She served herself and passed him one of the cans as well. "Let's eat while we watch the movie," she suggested, and they went back to the living room.

  


Severus was still studying the triangles in front of him, wondering why Hermione hadn't given him a fork as well, when she picked up one of her pieces and took a bite. He cautiously picked up one of his own slices and took his first bite. Hermione watched the expressions cross his face and laughed. "Good, isn't it?" she said, and Severus swallowed quickly. "This is exquisite!" he exclaimed. "What is in it?"

  


Hermione explained the differences between pizza topping and then popped a DVD in the player. "We'll start with a comedy, then go from there. This is a British favorite- Monty Python and the Holy Grail." She pushed a few buttons on the remote and the television screen lit up. Severus watched, first with amazement, then amusement, as King Arthur recruited knights for his cause. Before long, he was wrapped up in eating his pizza and laughing himself silly. He even tried the Coke, which he found to be sweet, fizzy, but strangely delicious.

  


By the end of the film, he had to admit that there were benefits to being Muggle. He ate the last few bites of his pizza and turned to Hermione eagerly. "What's next?" he asked.

  


She giggled. "You've got cheese on your chin. Here." She passed him a napkin and then switched the DVD. "This one is called Shawshank Redemption. It's a drama. I think you'll like it." She reached over and flicked the switch on the lamp, leaving the room lit only by the television. Snape settled back comfortably and allowed himself to be engrossed by the storyline. When it was over, she brought out a small carton of ice cream , which they shared with two spoons while they discussed the finer points of the movies they had just seen. Severus asked how many movies she owned.

  


"About a hundred, I think."

  


"A hundred! How many have been made?"

  


"Oh, goodness.... hundreds of thousands, I'm sure." She laughed at his amazed expression.

  


After that, they watched Star Wars, Hermione having explained the concept of science fiction, and started on The Empire Strikes Back. Severus noticed Hermione started yawning just after the beginning, and his own eyelids were starting to droop as well. He tried to force the drowsiness away, wanting to see what happened. However, long before the Death Star was destroyed, there were both sprawled on the sofa, sound asleep.


	15. Chapter Fifteen

Hermione awakened slowly. She felt stiff and Crookshanks was perched on her leg. "Geroff, 'Ookshanks," she mumbled, trying to turn over. As if by answer, she felt the cat's cold wet nose pressing against her cheek. But if he was by her face, how was he also on her leg?

She cautiously opened one eye. The bright sunshine was pouring in through the window and the television was still on. She must have fallen asleep watching movies with Severus- Severus!

Sure enough, he lay sprawled on the other end of the couch, his arm draped over her leg. His hair had come loose from the band that held it back and was now falling over the side of his face. He looked peaceful in sleep, Hermione realized. She didn't want to wake him, but she was sore and needed a hot shower. Carefully, she slipped her leg from beneath his arm and headed up the stairs.

Something was tickling Severus' face. He grunted and turned away, tried to slip back into the comfortable blackness of slumber. He had almost succeeded when he felt a heavy weight land with a thud on his chest. His eyes shot open and he found himself face to face with a quite large, very ugly ginger cat. The cat's eyes glared at him from a smushed face. Severus glared back.

"Marow?" said the cat. Severus scowled.

The cat leapt from his perch on the Potions Master and landed softly on the floor. He glared back at Severus and twitched his bushy tail before stalking off. Severus sat up and shook off the last of the drowsiness before looking around. He was sitting in Hermione's living room, and that obnoxious beast must be Crookshanks. But where was Hermione? He decided to go find out.

He found her, with a fresh face and bare feet, moving around a spacious and sunny kitchen. A radio was perched on the counter, and she was softly singing along.

She directed several eggs from a basket on the counter over to a bowl with her wand. A simple wrist movement on her part, and the eggs broke themselves, whites and yolks in the bowl, shells on the counter. She turned from the large white thing she was leaning into with her arms full of mushrooms, milk, cheese, an onion, green peppers, tomatoes, and fresh dill. As she dumped them on the counter, she caught sight of him standing there and smiled cheerfully. "Good morning!"

He blinked a few times. He wasn't exactly a morning person. She pushed a cup of tea in his hand and directed him to a chair. "After you finish that, you can have a shower if you like. I've laid out some fresh towels for you. Breakfast will be ready in about a half hour."

Severus tried to process all this. She was making him breakfast? He drank the tea quickly and headed toward the bathroom. Things would be clearer after a shower.

He arrived back in the kitchen, fully coherent, just as Hermione was starting to set the table. He took the dishes and flatware from her, saying, "The least I can do is set the table." She rewarded him with a smile and went back to the stove. 

Severus ducked a flying stack of toast that rocketed toward the plate he laid down. A pitcher of something orange followed. He finally decided it would be safer in a chair. He sat, and she sent the rest of the food to the table.

They broke their fast on veggie omelets, freshly sliced cantaloupe, toast, and orange juice. Severus, who had never had the juice before, drank several glasses while he and Hermione talked about the happenings since she left Hogwarts. When they finally pushed their plates back, they were both stuffed and pleasantly lethargic.

"Do you have to leave soon?" she asked wistfully.

He was about to say he should, but her expression stopped him. She looked lonely, he realized, with no one else in the large house. He shook his head. "I have no plans for the day."

She brightened immediately and he knew he had said the right thing.

They were discussing their options when a beautiful snowy owl soared through the open window and perched next to Hermione. "Hello, Hedwig," she said, taking the parchment from the owl's scaly leg. Hedwig helped herself to some juice and toast and flew back out without waiting for an answer.

Severus noticed Hermione's face go pale as she read the letter. She handed it to him when she was done and he scanned it quickly.

_Dear Hermione,_

_I know you're friends with Professor Snape, so I'm sending this to you in hopes that you can get a message to him without arousing any suspicion. We have reason to believe that Igor Karkaroff, with a band of rogue Death Eaters, is after him. He will almost certainly be heading to Hogwarts. I'll be trying to reach Dumbledore about this as well._

_I'll owl you when I know more._

_Love, _

_Harry_

"Well, that settles that. I'll have to return to Hogwarts immediately," he said, rising from his seat. He strode quickly to the fireplace, Hermione trailing behind him. He took a pinch of Floo powder from the small pot on the mantle and was about to cast it into the fire he ignited with his wand, when she looked worriedly at him. "Will you be OK?" she asked quietly. He gave her a reassuring smile. "Karkaroff is not the first to try to kill me, and I am still here. Don't worry." She nodded, but bit her bottom lip. It made her look vulnerable, Severus thought, and frightened. He pulled her into a hug and whispered again, "Don't worry. I will owl you in a few days."

"_Ahem_."

They sprang apart quickly, to find Dumbledore, or rather, Dumbledore's head, staring at them sternly from the flames. Before either Severus or Hermione could say anything, the Headmaster spoke. 

"I've received some news from the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement."

Severus nodded. "I've received the same news, Albus. I was just on my way back."

Dumbledore shook his head. "I'd rather you not. Most of the others are gone, and Hogwarts is not safe enough at this time. I myself will be leaving shortly to attend some Ministry business, and there's the matter of finding a new professor. You see, we've just lost our Potions Master, and he must be replaced."

"_What_?" Severus growled.

"I want you to stay in the Muggle world until we can locate Karkaroff and the others. Reports of your 'death' may flush him out sooner. Miss Granger, do you have any objections to a houseguest while we straighten this out?"

"No, sir," she answered, her mind reeling.

"Well, I do!" Severus argued. "I'll not put Hermione in danger by remaining here, and what's more, you can not kill me off _without my permission_!"

Dumbledore peered over the top of his spectacles. "Severus, the aurors and I agree that this is the only way. As we speak, they are patrolling Miss Granger's neighborhood and will remain there until Karkaroff is apprehended. Anti-apparation wards are already in place. Her fireplace will be removed from the Floo Network when this conversation is over. The wizarding world is not safe for you at this time. When this is behind us, it will be known that reports of your death were greatly exaggerated. Until then, stay put! You can move in the Muggle world, but you will remain Miss Granger's guest. Is that clear?"

Severus scowled, but finally agreed. 

"Have you an owl, Miss Granger?" Dumbledore asked. She nodded. "Let me know immediately if there are any problems. I will be in contact." With that, he disappeared. Hermione doused the flames with her wand and turned to Severus. "I'm sorry, Severus," she said softly.

He sighed. "I'm not angry at you, Hermione. It is I who should apologize to you. My presence is putting you in danger." 

"Didn't you hear Dumbledore? I'll be fine. Now, where are the car keys?" He raised an eyebrow. "If you're going to stay here, we might as well get you some Muggle clothes, and if we can't apparate, we'll have to drive."

¸,ø ¤º°`°º¤ø,¸¸,ø¤º°`°º¤ø,¸¸,ø¤º°`°º¤ø,¸¸,ø¤º°`°º¤ ø,¸¸,ø ¤º°`°º¤ø,¸

Severus allowed Hermione to shepherd him through several shops, loading him with bags containing Muggle clothes and toiletries she purchased with a piece of plastic. He tried to keep a running total so he could have money transferred from his vault to hers, but gave up after the first two stores. He just didn't understand the British currency system.

They had lunch in a small cafe, then returned to Hermione's home. She led him to a comfortable bedroom across the hall from hers, filled with heavy mahogany furniture, dark wall paneling, and a navy and beige bedspread. A bookshelf lined one wall. "If you don't like this room, there's another downstairs. It's smaller though." He reassured her that this one would be fine, and went about hanging his new clothes in the closet.

When he was finished, he noticed the house seemed too quiet. "Hermione?" he called. No answer. In the hall, he noticed another door and cautiously opened it. This must be her room, he thought. It was filled with dark jewel tones, royal blue, dark green, and garnet. A large four poster bed was against one wall, carefully made and stacked with several pillows. A tattered stuffed lion leaned against them, one ear rubbed free of fur. A nightstand stood next to the bed, a lamp and a small stack of books placed on top. A magical mirror was hanging on the wall over a large dresser, the surface of which was covered with carefully arranged framed photos, both magical and Muggle. Severus picked up one, a still snapshot of a middle aged couple with their arms around each other's waist. They were smiling widely with perfect, even teeth. He recalled that both of her parents had been dentists. They looked like pleasant people, he decided, replacing the photo and leaving the room, closing the door gently behind him. 

"Hermione?" he called from the stairs, again after checking the entire second floor. The first floor was equally devoid of her presence, and he was just starting to feel the knot in his stomach tightening when he caught sight of movement through one of the windows. She was kneeling in the backyard, a watercan in her hand and a silly straw hat perched on her head. The ginger cat was next to her, batting at a stray leaf. He almost laughed with relief.

She looked up when he came through the back door. "All settled in?" she said, turning her attention back to some rather pathetic looking dittany growing in the patch of earth. He kneeled next to her and prodded the plant with a thin finger. "Not enough lime," he said. She sighed. "That's what Neville said too. You should have seen it last week. It's actually doing much better."

He glanced around him. "It's nice back here," he remarked, taking in the flower gardens, benches, and small koi pond in the corner. "Yes," she said, "My mum loved to garden. I'm afraid I'll end up killing everything. I have a bit of a black thumb. Maybe I should hire someone to tend it."

"I am not bad with plants. While I am here, if you'd like, I will tend it for you. It will help me occupy my time," he offered. She gratefully agreed, and showed him where the tools were kept.

The days passed pleasantly for them. Hermione showed him how to operate the television, DVD player, radio, washing machine and dryer. He taught her some useful housework charms and the finer points of gardening. She attempted to instruct him on the computer, but gave up after he deleted several key files. He learned how to use the Playstation, however, and they passed several hours battling each other in Tekken.

They spent much of the time talking. Severus had come to enjoy Hermione's company during her last year at Hogwarts, but always there had been a student-teacher relationship. This time he was getting to know her as an equal. He found her no less brilliant than before, but now she would openly challenge him. He discovered that her pretty face masked a wit almost as acerbic as his own.

What surprised him most of all, even more than the pleasure he took from her company, was that he looked forward to waking each morning. He reveled in their debates on current affairs over breakfast. He enjoyed reading silently next to her on the sofa, and the easy routine they had fallen into. As time went on, he found he had almost forgotten why he was living there, and just relished the fact that he was.

Hermione kept up her usual correspondence with her friends, but out of concern for Severus' safety, had no visitors. Both Harry and Ron knew where Severus was and kept them updated on the search for Karkaroff. There had been a few unconfirmed sightings, but nothing substantial.

After the first week, Dumbledore carried through with his plans to fake Severus' death. It made the front page of the Daily Prophet, which Hermione had delivered every morning, along with a lengthy article on his life and achievements. It shook her badly to see it in print, though Severus just scowled.

He found her later that morning sitting on her parents' bed, clutching the article and sobbing. He sat on the bed and gathered her close until her tears slowed. "Even thought you're right here, and I know this isn't true, it could be," she said, her breath hitching. "They killed my parents, and they almost killed Harry, and they could still kill him and Ron and you and Dumbledore and I don't want to lose anyone else," she choked out, her tears soaking through his thin shirt. He placed a finger under her chin and forced her to look into his eyes. "Hermione, I have no plans of letting them kill me. Dumbledore didn't live this long by being foolish, and Harry and Ron know how to take care of themselves. We're all going to be OK. You must trust me on this."

She nodded miserably and he continued to hold her, stroking her hair and back until he felt her relax. He drew back slowly, noticing her breath had become even and deep. She'd fallen asleep in his embrace. He bit back a smile and carried her to her own bed, lying her down gently and tucking the stuffed lion in her arms. She looked so fragile lying there that he mentally berated himself. She had been crying over him, and he couldn't help but feel unworthy. No one was worthy of making her cry, especially not a bastard like him. He leaned down and kissed her forehead softly. "Sleep well, little one," his whispered, before closing the door quietly behind him.

The realization hit him all at once. Severus walked downstairs and sat numbly on the sofa, staring at the wall, wondering what in the world he was going to do. He was in love with Hermione Granger. He'd never been in love before, and he couldn't even pinpoint when it had happened. Maybe it was during these last few days, maybe it was the night Harry had defeated Voldemort, but the when of it all didn't matter. What mattered was the Severus didn't have any idea of how to proceed.

Perhaps a walk would clear his head, he thought. He wrote a quick note and left it on the table, in case Hermione woke while he was gone, and slipped quietly outside. He walked for a good hour before turning back. When he neared Hermione's house, he was shocked to see a familiar redheaded figure sprinting towards him, followed closely by a frantic looking man sporting glasses. 

"Where's Hermione?" Ron yelled. "Get her out of here!"

Severus ran toward the house and just reached the front door, when a woman's scream pierced the air. He whipped out his wand and burst through the door. Several dark robed figures in the house turned abruptly. He stunned one and was pointing his wand at another when Harry and Ron appeared at his sides. "Get Hermione! We'll deal with them. The wards are down," Harry said quickly, knocking another Death Eater off his feet. Severus didn't wait to see if reinforcements were coming. He ran up the stairs, his heart pounding.

The door to Hermione's room was open and he saw an all too familiar flash of green from inside. A strangled cry ripped from Severus' throat and he flew through the door, convinced he was too late.

A black robed body laid crumpled on the floor. Two other figures stood in the room, and as Severus entered, one flew across the room and hit the wall with a sickly thud. The third had his wand trained on Hermione, who was cornered, her own wand lying a good ten feet away. Crookshanks lay motionless on the floor as well; apparently he had tried to attack the intruders.

It happened in a split second. Karkaroff opened his mouth and started to speak the Killing Curse, but Severus was faster. He didn't think to stun, he thought to kill. "Avada Kedavra!" he roared in a terrible voice, his arm outstretched. The man fell before he could finish speaking.

Hermione stared at him with wide eyes, her face ghostly pale. He wanted to pull her close, kiss away the terror, but he did none of those things. He grabbed her wand and then her arm, and apparated them both out of there. 

They reappeared in front of The Burrow. "Get inside," he hissed, pushing her wand into her hand. "Tell Molly what happened, and stay here!"

"But..." she started to argue. Severus turned to her, still feeling the killing rage flowing through him. "Go!" he screamed. 

Molly opened the door and ran into the yard. "Hermione! What's happened?" she asked, grabbing the younger girl's arm. Hermione looked at her blankly. Molly turned to Severus. "Keep her here," he ordered. "Don't let her go, whatever you do." Molly nodded, and Severus disappeared.


	16. Chapter Sixteen

He apparated inside Hermione's living room. Harry and Ron had managed the Death Eaters and Ministry officials were now carting them away and performing memory charms on the confused neighbors. Harry looked up when Severus appeared and motioned for him to come in the kitchen.

"Hermione?" he asked, once they were out of earshot.

"At The Burrow. I left her with Molly," Severus answered. As Harry watched, the man's carefully schooled expression crumbled. "They were about to kill her!" he spat. The force of his anger shattered several of the kitchen windows. Harry didn't even flinch.

"You killed a man upstairs, didn't you?" he asked carefully. Severus felt the last of his anger drain away, leaving only emptiness. "Yes. I could have simply stunned him, but when he started...." his words faded away and he leaned against the counter. "Will you arrest me now?" he asked numbly.

Harry shook his head. "No. You love her," he stated simply.

Severus looked at him wildly. "How did you....?"

"Go back to her, Professor. Make sure she's OK."

"I... I can't... I killed... she shouldn't be anywhere near me" the Potions Master choked. "It's my fault they came here, and then I..."

"Professor...", Harry started, but found he was talking only to thin air. Severus had disapparated again, and Harry could bet he wasn't going to The Burrow.

"How is he?" Ron asked quietly behind him. Harry shook his head in frustration. "He's beating himself up over killing Karkaroff and leading him here. I didn't get to tell him any of it."

Severus, having told Dumbledore what had transpired, was now back in his rooms at Hogwarts, staring at the stone wall. He had killed a man. Again. And he had done so in front of the woman he loved.

He laughed bitterly. He was a fool for even considering that she could ever return his feelings. Her parents had been taken by the same spell he uttered tonight, when a simple disarm would have worked. He had put her in danger by his very presence, made her cry, and then killed a person directly in front of her.

His stomach lurched violently and he ran for the toilet, just making it before he vomited. He heaved several times, then rested his head against the cool porcelain, still shaking. What must she think of him now? He remembered the look of sheer terror in her eyes, first after he killed Karkaroff, and then again at The Burrow, when he screamed at her. She knew that, once, he had been capable of murder, but believed he had changed. Today, he had proven to himself and to her that nothing had changed at all. She had seen, in that split second, who Severus Snape truly was. His darkness had tainted her irrevocably.

He had no excuse for his anger, except fear. He had been terrified that the Death Eaters would kill her, that he would be too late to save the only person in the world that he loved.

He had felt helpless and afraid when he saw Karkaroff raise his wand and point it at Hermione, and that had led him to kill. However, it was nothing compared to what he felt at this instant, knowing he had destroyed any chance for happiness he might once have had. It had taken him eighteen years to recover from the first time he killed. 

What were the chances for redemption a second time?

Dumbledore sat quietly and listened as Harry reported the events of the day through the wizard's fire. "So Karkaroff wasn't there for Severus?" he finally asked.

"No, sir," Harry's head answered. "Once he discovered that Professor Snape was 'dead', he switched targets. I'm afraid to say he went after Hermione because she was my best friend. He wanted to send a message to me because of Voldemort."

Dumbledore sighed. "I will have to tell Severus, but I'm afraid he's in no condition to talk with anyone right now, including myself. He also holds me partially responsible for the attack, I fear."

"He seemed distraught when I spoke with him, Professor. I didn't get the change to tell him that Hermione also used the Killing Curse on one of the others."

The ancient wizard looked older than ever, tired and weak. "Thank you for filling me in, Harry. Is there anything else?"

Harry hesitated, then said, "Only that he loves her, Professor, and I think she loves him as well. She's frantic with worry."

Dumbledore smiled sadly. "Yes. I know. I'll talk to him and see if we can't clear up this problem."

Harry looked sad as well. "I'm going to go check on her. Goodnight, Headmaster." With that, Harry's head disappeared.

Harry knocked softly on the bedroom door. "Hermione? Can I come in?" He heard her muffled reply and cautiously pushed the door open.

She was laying on the bed in a fetal position, wearing one of Ginny's flannel nightgowns, but her eyes were dry. He sat gently next to her.

"How is he?" she asked softly. Harry sighed. "Dumbledore said he's pretty upset. He blames himself," he answered truthfully.

"It's not his fault, Harry. It's not anyone's fault. He saved me, damn it! Karkaroff was going to kill me!" she said, agitated.

"I know," Harry said, rubbing her back. "He'll know that too, when he calms down."

"God, Harry," she said hoarsely, "I thought he was dead. I knew Karkaroff and the others would have never gotten to me unless they had gotten past him. I was so scared, and then when I saw him I could say anything because I realized..."

"I know, 'Mione," he said again.

"I love him, Harry," she said miserably. "I love him. He left and I never got to tell him." She finally cried then, and Harry, not knowing how to make the pain go away, held her close and let her.

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Severus avoided everyone for the next few days, especially Dumbledore. He wasn't taking the meals the house-elves left for him, and for the first time in his life, he couldn't be found brewing his potions. He sat in his rooms and stared at the fire, or walked around the lake.

Nova, the beautiful tawny owl he had purchased for Hermione, had flown in one morning, a parchment tied to his leg. He had taken the letter and thrown it into the fire without opening it. He couldn't bear to read what she had to say.

Finally, after a week, Dumbledore summoned him into his office. Severus sat numbly while the Headmaster told him that Karkaroff had targeted Hermione, not because of him, but due to her association with Harry Potter. "It doesn't matter, Albus," he said. "I should have been there. Karkaroff never should have gotten into her room. He never should have gotten a glimpse of her. I should have been there."

"Why weren't you?" the Headmaster asked simply.

Severus stared at the wall and ignored the question. It hurt too much to think of that day, to remember the way she felt in his arms, and how peaceful she looked in slumber.

Dumbledore sighed, considering whether or not to say anything more. Finally he spoke. "The Ministry removed two dead bodies from that room, Severus. Not one."

The Potions Master whipped his head around quickly. "What did you say?" he hissed.

"I said," Dumbledore repeated, "that Hermione herself killed one of those men. Will you judge her as harshly as you've judged yourself?"

He remembered then, the eerie green flash he'd seen from the hallway that had convinced him Hermione lay motionless in her room. Hermione had killed a man. She had killed a man because he'd not been there to protect her.

A low guttural moan escaped Severus before he could stop it. He buried his head in his hands and wept.

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It had taken much convincing, but finally, Arthur and Molly had agreed that Hermione should return to her home. As she climbed from the fireplace and dusted herself off, a bow-legged ginger cat came running from the dining room. "Crookshanks!" she exclaimed, sweeping him up and hugging him to her chest. Ron, who had accompanied her, smiled broadly. "He must have only been stunned," he said happily. He held up Nova's large cage. "Where should I put him?"

Hermione waved to the coffee table, and Ron placed the cage gently on the polished wood. "Are you sure you'll be OK?"

Hermione nodded. "If I need anything, I'll Floo," she said. He didn't look convinced, but shrugged and kissed her cheek before returning to The Burrow. Hermione squeezed Crookshanks once more before allowing him to wiggle out of her arms. "Let's get you some food, hmmm?" she said. The cat mewed his agreement. She poured some food into his bowl and gave him fresh water, then picked up Nova's cage to move him to her room.

As she was passing the end table, she caught sight of a folded piece of paper that she didn't recall leaving there. She picked it up and her eyes filled with tears at the sight of Severus' strong handwriting.

_H._

_Gone for a walk to clear my head.__ I'll return in a few hours. Please don't worry._

_S._

After the day of the attack, Hermione had tried to be strong. She had not allowed herself any tears, even when Nova had returned to her without a response. She had smiled and laughed with the Weasleys, and done her best to hide any sign that she was far from OK. Now, in the safety of her own walls, she stopped trying to be strong and let herself just be. 

She discovered that it hurt worse than she thought possible. Signs of him were everywhere, from the breakfast dishes still in the sink, to the clothes hung neatly in the guest closet. She wandered the large house, feeling that even it mourned Severus' absence. Finally, emotionally exhausted, she lay on the couch and slept.

She tried to owl him several times over the next few weeks, but Nova always returned without any messages. Finally, tired of weeping and waiting, she apparated to Hogsmeade and walked to Hogwarts Castle. The corridors were empty, and her footsteps echoed on the stone floors as she made her way to the dungeons and the familiar doors of his private chambers. The door was unlocked and she slipped in quietly.

He was sitting with his back to the door, staring at the fire. He gave no indication that he heard her enter. She stood there awkwardly, trying to decide what to say first. Finally, she spoke.

"You haven't been answering my letters."

She couldn't see his flinch. From her perspective, he made no movement at all. "There was no point. We have nothing to say to each other."

Hermione felt her blood run cold. "How can you say that?" she cried. "How can you say I have nothing to say to you after what you did?"

Severus closed his eyes in pain. He'd known it was only a matter of time before she came to confront him, but now that she was here, it was harder than he could have imagined. He knew he owed it to her to let her say her piece, to rage at him for not being there, but he couldn't. He fell back onto the only thing he knew could save him.

"If you're quite done, Miss Granger, I have things to do and I don't wish to be disturbed. Please save your melodramatics for someone who cares."

Hermione gasped, hurt and angry. "No, you son of a bitch, I am _not_ done! I thought you cared, only now it's obvious I was mistaken."

"Get out." He spoke softly, but the words could not have wounded her more deeply if they'd been screamed. She turned sharply on her heel and left.

Severus let out the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding and closed his eyes tightly. "And so it ends," he murmured to himself, "not with a bang, but a whimper."


	17. Chapter Seventeen

Dear Miss Granger,

Professor Dumbledore has told me of the events that transpired at your home recently. I sincerely hope that you are holding up well. If ever you need anything, I am here and will assist you in any way possible. Will you be visiting us any time soon?

Very Sincerely,

Professor M. McGonagall

Dear Harry,

Yes, I'm OK. Actually, I'm not, but I'm learning. I can't do any better than that.

I'm still having nightmares, but I guess you know all about that. Sometimes I wake up screaming, sometimes I don't wake up at all and have to relive it over and over again in my head.

My first classes will be starting in a few weeks. I'm glad. I need something to get my mind off of everything.

With Love,

Hermione

Dear Ron,

I'm glad to hear that Parvati came back. I do hope you've told her everything?

I saw Dean Thomas in Diagon Alley yesterday. He told me about his trip to France. It sounded fascinating. Guess who else I saw? Bill, with Fleur Delacour! What is that about?

No, I'm still not sleeping well, but I'll get there. Don't worry on my account.

With Love,

Hermione

Dear Neville,

My dittany is doing much better. Thank you!

Your friend,

Hermione

Dear Hermione,

I wish I could give you some advice about the nightmares, but as you know I never got mine under control.

Did I tell you? Mandy Brocklehurst sent me a "Dear John" letter. Actually, it started with "Dear Harry", but the message was essentially the same. I don't know how Ron juggles a relationship with this job. By the time I'm off duty, all I want to do is sleep.

Hang in there. Better days are bound to arrive.

Love,

Harry

Dear Hermione,

I told her. I also asked her, if you know what I mean. She said yes! Fleur was in town for a few days on her way to America. She decided to look Bill up and they went to lunch. Nothing terribly exciting.

We'll come visit you as soon as I get the chance. How are you feeling these days?

Love,

Ron

Dear Hermione,

Ron told me about what happened. I do hope you're doing OK now.

I wanted to ask you if you'd be a watcher at our wedding. Please let me know as soon as possible so I can send out the invitations. We're having the ceremony at Hogwarts. Dumbledore and McGonagall have agreed to perform the binding for us.

Your friend,

Parvati

You are cordially invited

to attend the wedding of

Ronald Weasley

Son of Arthur and Molly

and Parvati Patil

Daughter of Rasheed and Mahri

on November First

at three o'clock in the afternoon

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Officiating

Albus Dumbledore

Minerva McGonagall

Watchers

Seamus Finnegan

Hermione Granger

Padma Patil

Harold Potter

Muggles will be allowed to attend

RSVP

Dear Professor McGonagall,

Thank you for your letter. I'm sorry I haven't written before now. I've had a lot on my plate, as Muggles say.

I had my first classes today at the University. After the Advanced courses at Hogwarts, they seem almost pitifully easy. They do, however, offer some excellent English Literature courses.

I don't think I will be visiting soon, but I will be at Ron's wedding, so I will see you then.

With Love,

Hermione Granger

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Hermione was thankful for the start of classes, as they provided much needed distraction. Still, even as she tried to engross herself in the lectures, should could not help but compare these Muggle professors to McGonagall or Severus. They knew how to challenge a student, make them want to learn. Her new professors only liked to talk.

Although she was trying to exist in the Muggle world, she still carried her wand at all times. On the first day of classes, she had tried to leave it on her dresser, and found she literally could not leave the room with it sitting there. She froze with fear when it left her sight. She had ended up carrying it in her bag, feeling slightly panicked that it would take her at least ten seconds to reach it if something happened. Having owled Harry with her fears, he had send back an arm holster like the aurors wear. It was hidden by the long sleeves of her sweaters, but with a quick flick of her wrist, the smooth wand would drop into her hand, ready for action. Only then did she feel safe.

She was leaving Literary Composition during her third week of classes when she almost used the wand on an unsuspecting Muggle. The classroom was almost deserted when she felt a hand touch her shoulder lightly. In no more than a second, she had spun, wand palmed, to face her would-be assailant.

It was one of her classmates, a tall young man with sandy blonde hair and blue eyes. He smiled and spread his hands apart when her panicked eyes met his. "Woah, peace!" he said cheerfully. Hermione relaxed her stance and slipped the wand back up her sleeve, hoping he hadn't noticed the small movement. "Yes?" she answered, not unkindly, but in a tone that pleaded for solitude.

"My name's Paul Jensen," he said extending his hand. Hermione shook it warily and introduced herself. "Well, Hermione, since we're no longer strangers, could I tempt you into a cup of tea?" he asked mischievously. She shook her head, "I don't think so, Paul, but thank you for the offer." He shrugged in mock despair. "It was worth a shot, right? Maybe tomorrow." She gave him a small smile but offered no encouragement.

From that day, at the end of every Lit Comp class, Paul was there, extending an invitation to Hermione to have a cup of tea with him. Finally, she told him that she had no intentions of getting into a relationship, so she felt it better not to accept his offer. He smiled in his charming way and said, "Who's talking relationships? Maybe I just want to borrow your class notes!" Taken aback, Hermione laughed for the first time since the attack. Paul, who had no way of knowing that, looked pleased nonetheless and steered her toward the small cafeteria on campus.

Over the tea, he told her all about himself and didn't pressure her when she dodged his questions about her own life. He was witty and friendly and always seemed to know exactly what to say. Over the next few weeks, he had skillfully wedged himself in Hermione's life. Although she knew she didn't love him, she found his attention flattering, and she was determined to push one Potions Master firmly out of her mind. It had only been a crush, she told herself, so there was no reason to dwell on it, especially since he seemed content never to speak with her again. She and Severus had nothing, so why not enjoy being with Paul? Finally, she agreed to accompany Paul on a date, and didn't protest when he kissed her later that night.

They went out several times during the following weeks, with Paul making it clear that he was ready to move the relationship forward. Although she liked and respected him, she didn't think it would be fair to commit to him when she was still struggling with her feelings for Severus. She couldn't tell Paul any of this, so she told him nothing at all and that just made him try harder.

She knew that sooner or later, she would have to tell Paul what she was. She put off the conversation as long as she could, hoping for a flash of inspiration that would tell her, this is it, this is the moment. No such flash came, and Hermione continued to live what she was coming to refer to as her double life.

Finally, one evening in October, Hermione knew she couldn't keep putting it off. She invited Paul into her home for the first time and took a deep breath. "We need to have a little talk," she said. If he didn't take it well, she figured, she could always use a memory charm and slowly withdraw from him.

He was looking at her intently, waiting for what she had to say, when the phone rang. Hermione, both irritated by the interruption and grateful for the respite, answered the call in the kitchen.

"Hermione?" Ron's voice blasted through the receiver.

"Ron! Don't scream," she winced, holding the phone away from her ear.

"Sorry! I was wondering if I could stop by for a bit? Your robes came today and Parvati needs to make sure they fit before the ceremony. I was going to use fire to ask, but then I remembered you saying you sometimes had Muggle visitors..."

"Oh! Shit!" Hermione swore. "Paul's here and I'm about to tell him everything. You can come by, but wait about an hour and don't Floo. I may have to memory charm him, so it'd be best if you came through the front door like most people."

"OK, see you then," Ron rang off right as Paul's startled yelp sounded from upstairs. Why had he gone upstairs? she thought frantically. This was going to make everything much harder.

He was standing in her bedroom, deathly pale, pointing a finger at her magic mirror and shaking. "It... it told me to get a _haircut_!" he gasped.

"Well... you _are_ getting a little shaggy," she said, trying to lighten the mood.

"You _knew_ it talked?" Paul's eyes were roving around the room and caught sight of the photos on her dresser. Photo Harry winked from the frame and Paul's legs gave out. He sank to the floor, Hermione crouched concertedly beside him.

"I think we need to have that chat now," she said, sitting down beside him.


	18. Chapter Eighteen

"What are you?" he asked warily.

She hesitated, then answered. "I'm a witch. I graduated from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry in Scotland. Most of those photos you saw were taken there. They're magic as well."

"Witchcraft?" he choked. "Like... demons and stuff?"

Hermione shook her head. "Not at all. It's just something we're born with. In fact we believe it's a gene that lies within everyone, only in Muggles, that's non-magic people, it's dormant."

"Magic," he said shakily, running a hand through his hair. "I can't believe this," he muttered.

Hermione look out her wand and pointed it at the bed. A few words later, it turned into a buffalo. Paul screamed, and she transfigured it back calmly.

"Believe it," she said. "It's real. Now do you understand why I couldn't tell you about my life?"

"Were your parents...?"

"No. I'm what they call a Muggleborn, a witch or wizard born to non-magical parents."

He suddenly pieced two and two together. "Your parents didn't die in a robbery, did they?"

She shook her head sadly. "No," she whispered. "They were killed by a dark wizard." She tried to explain Voldemort to him, but that involved telling him about Harry and Ron... and Severus. She concluded her story with the recent attack in her home.

"So what happened to the... Death Eaters?" he asked, not sure if he wanted to know.

"Most of them went to Azkaban, the wizards' prison."

"Most?" he questioned. She bowed her head. "Two of them are dead."

Paul was having a hard time processing all this information. He'd noticed Hermione as she sat taking notes in class, and he singled her out because she was pretty, but not beautiful. She seemed wholly unremarkable in every way, except for her mind. Paul felt it was a man's right not to be outclassed by his significant other, and was positive that Hermione fit his ideal of the perfect woman in every way- except for this. This was a definite hurdle, but he was fascinated all the same.

"So you can kill with magic?" he asked blandly. She looked up sharply. "Magic is a tool, just like anything else. It can be incredibly beneficial in the right hands, but in the wrong hands, it can be the most horrifying thing ever. You must understand that," she pleaded. He nodded slowly.

"Is there a way to make a non-magical person magical?" he asked, knowing how brilliant her mind was.

Hermione looked thoughtful and shook her head slowly. "If there is, I don't know about it."

"I suppose this has to be my secret then," he said, smiling wryly. She looked relieved. "Yes, I'm afraid it must be. If people knew about us..." she trailed off and shuddered. Paul gave her a quick hug and smiled inwardly. That was it, he realized, the key to it all. He'd been wondering how to keep Hermione by his side when she was so reluctant. Maybe this wasn't such a hurdle after all.

"So you can't use magic on Muggles then?" he questioned, just to be sure.

"Not normally, no. Only in very extreme circumstances. The Ministry makes sure of that," she said. He looked confused, so she clarified. "The Ministry of Magic. It's like our government."

There came a fierce pounding from the front door, and Hermione jumped up. "Come on," she said, smiling. There's someone I want you to meet."

Paul didn't at all approve of the huge hug the tall redhead swept his girlfriend into, not did he approve of the loving look she gave him. "Ron," she said when they had released each other, "This is Paul Jensen. Paul, this is Ron Weasley, my best friend from Hogwarts. I'd better go try this on." She took the package Ron handed her and disappeared into the bathroom.

"You're one of them too?" Paul exclaimed, ignoring Ron's outstretched hand.

Ron gave him an indecipherable look and withdrew his hand. "If you mean a wizard, yes, I am," he said. "I see Hermione's told you then."

Paul scowled. He didn't like the fact that this other man knew things about Hermione that he was just starting to learn. And why was he bringing her clothes?

Ron's eyebrows drew together and he gave the blond a shrewd look, but didn't say anything more. They stood in silence until Hermione reappeared, dressed in the garnet robes Parvati had ordered for her Watchers. "What do you think?" she said, twirling for her audience.

Ron smiled appreciatively. "A perfect fit. Parvati will be happy about that. Harry's was two sizes too big; she's having to send them back to Gladrags to be tailored."

Paul had a dubious look on his face. "Um... don't you think they're a bit... low cut?"

Hermione looked down, then smiled at Paul. "They're standard Watcher robes. You should see the bride's dress," she said.

Paul looked at her blankly. "Oh! I'm sorry, I forgot to tell you. Ron's getting married in a few weeks. I'm going to be one of the Watchers, which is kind of like a Muggle bridesmaid. In fact," she said, taking a deep breath, "I was hoping you'd be my date to the wedding. It's going to be at Hogwarts, so you can see where I went to school." She was a bit nervous about having him along, but she knew she didn't want to face Severus alone, if he was going to be there at all. For all she knew, he was planning on staying in his dungeons.

Paul smiled at her in his charming manner. "I'd be delighted."

Ron looked less enthusiastic, but smiled nonetheless. "Yes, well... I'd better be off then. I'll owl you, 'Mione."

She hugged him goodbye, and Ron apparated out. Paul blinked, staring at the empty air which only seconds before had held the wizard.

"Isn't he great?" Hermione asked, pleased that Paul had met one of her friends. Paul smiled blandly, and Hermione, in her relief that he finally knew everything, didn't notice. "Yes, great," he echoed, before pulling her forward for a kiss.

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Ron and Parvati's wedding day finally arrived. Hermione had apparated herself and Paul to Hogsmeade and they walked through the gates and around the lake. At first, all Paul could see was a decrepit castle, crumbling and abandoned, but as they got closer, he was able to view it as it really was. Dumbledore had removed the anti-Muggle shields enough that any Muggle accompanied with a wizard could arrive through the gates, and once on the school grounds, they could see the sprawling castle in all its glory.

Hermione had to prepare with the wedding party, so she was relieved when Professor Lupin hurried toward them. She greeted Remus warmly with a smile and hug, then gratefully turned Paul over to him. "I'll soon you soon, dear," she promised, kissing his cheek before rushing away.

Remus tried to engage Hermione's date in conversation, but the young man was sullen and answered only when asked a direct question. Even then, he limited himself to one or two words. Finally he shrugged and flagged down Ginny Weasley, hoping Paul would be more comfortable with someone closer to his age.

He was a little too friendly, Ginny thought, shuddering at the way Paul's gaze ran over her breasts. Oh, he was definitely charming, but he was her friend's boyfriend. She didn't think he should be acting this way. She hoped that Draco would arrive soon so she wouldn't have to deal with Paul alone. Thankfully, before too much longer, the Headmaster signaled that they were almost ready to begin.

Most of the school had shown up on the lawn for the nuptials. They watched as McGonagall and Dumbledore stepped forward and lit the bonfire. The Watchers waited to take their places around of the circle. Ron and Parvati were to be wed in the old Wizard tradition, following Weasley custom. Ginny was craning her neck, trying to see if Parvati was waiting in the doorway for her cue, and didn't see Severus Snape move forward to stand next to Paul.

So this way the boyfriend, he thought sourly. He had been watching from the staff room window when Paul and Hermione arrived, and had seen the cold shoulder the boy had given Remus. More so, he had seen the reception that Ginny had gotten. The knot in his stomach tightened as he thought of Paul even sharing the same space with Hermione. He resisted the urge to throttle the git.

"Oh, hello Professor!" Ginny said, finally having noticed his presence. "This is Paul Jensen, Hermione's date."

"Boyfriend," Paul smoothly corrected, reluctantly offering his hand.

Severus looked at him as if he'd discovered that Paul was something unpleasant on the bottom of his shoe, and withdrew his hand almost as soon as it touched the boy's. "Severus Snape, Potions Master," he said, in the low, silky voice that made first years tremble.

"Yes," Paul's eyes narrowed, "Hermione's told me a lot about you."

"I'm sure," Severus answered, turning from the boy to watch as Dumbledore left the wedding circle. He followed with his eyes and saw Hermione standing with the other Watchers near the great castle doors, staring at him, the pain on her face apparent even from this distance.

Was it just the shock of seeing him after these months, Severus wondered, or was it that he was standing next to her precious boyfriend, tainting him through association? Whichever it was, the expression she wore cut through him so deeply that it was only through force of will that he held back the shudder. As she watched, he turned quickly and moved through the crowd until she could no longer see him.

When Severus was sure he could no longer feel those accusing eyes boring into him, he turned back. He would still be able to witness the binding from this position, and he could do so without seeing that horrible pain on Hermione's face, the pain that he put there.

She looked beautiful, he thought, in her deep garnet robes, her hair spilling over her shoulders. Severus could hardly believe the person who called himself Hermione's boyfriend was in the crowd, making eyes at every female around him, yet ignoring the gem that was waiting directly in front of him. Paul was a fool, he thought bitterly, even more so than himself because Paul actually had a chance.

Hermione, from her place with the other Watchers, could only stand there miserably as Severus walked away. She had known it would hurt to see him again, but she hadn't been expecting the wave of raw need she felt when their eyes met. She needed Severus to feel complete. While she was fond of Paul, he could never fill that place in her heart. She realized that with stunning clarity, and she knew that she would have to tell him, and soon. She knew that Severus didn't want her; he had made that perfectly clear when she had come to confront him, but she couldn't keep living this lie. It would be better to live without Severus, than to live with someone else trying to fill his place.

"Hey," Harry said softly, seeing her face. "Are you OK?"

She took a deep breath. "I'm fine. I just saw Severus standing by Paul, and it took me by surprise, that's all."

Harry looked at her, concertedly. He had heard about Ron's meeting with Paul, and he wasn't quite sure what to think. Ron clearly disliked him, and even Remus had been hard pressed to find anything good to say when he had greeted Harry only a few moment ago. Harry had promised himself that he would withhold judgment until he met Paul for himself, but he already knew Hermione's eyes didn't light up whenever his name was spoken. Unlike Snape's, he thought wryly. It was clear his friend still loved the Potions Master, and from Dumbledore's last letter, it was equally clear that Snape still loved Hermione. So why was Hermione dating Paul? Had she given up hope on Snape? Harry wondered.

Harry turned to gaze at Paul, a sick feeling beginning in the pit of his stomach when he saw the way he was staring at Ginny Weasley. Harry was about to excuse himself and go intervene when Draco arrived. Harry amusedly watched while Draco took measure of the other boy in about two seconds flat and put a protective arm across Ginny's shoulders.

It didn't deter Paul in the least. He simply turned his attentions to another girl standing near him, smiling and flirting, uncaring of who might have been watching.

Harry turned, the sick feeling in his stomach increasing, when he noticed Hermione looking in the same direction. She frowned slightly, and Harry grasped her hand. "I'm sure it's just innocent flirting," he tried to reassure her. She sighed and leaned her head against his shoulder. "Even if it's not, do I have the right to say anything?" she asked miserably. "I don't love him, and I'm sure he knows it. How can I berate him for flirting, when I'm..."

Harry squeezed her hand, waiting for her to piece together her thoughts.

"I'm going to have to end it. I know that. It never should have started, but I felt alone and he took that away, if only a little bit." She sighed once more, then gave him a small smile.

"But I shouldn't be thinking of this today. It's Ron's wedding day, and I think Dumbledore is signaling us," she said, releasing his hand. McGonagall raised her wand and a large enchanted harp started playing softly. At Dumbledore's nod, the Watchers walked forward and took their places at the four points of the circle. The wedding was about to begin.


	19. Chapter Nineteen

Dumbledore and McGonagall stood in the large circle, wearing heavy dress robes. There was a raging bonfire behind them, and a small altar in front, containing a white and gold cord, ritual wand, a wreath of roses, and a wreath of ivy. Dumbledore raised his arms and said in a voice that carried through the crowd, "Let the four directions be honored that power and radiance might enter our circle for the good of all beings."

Hermione, standing at the north point of the circle, called out, "With the blessing of the deep and fruitful earth, we call upon the powers of the North."

"With the blessing of the inner fire of the sun, we call upon the powers of the South," Padma Patil said.

Harry, at Hermione's right, smiled and said, "With the blessing of the sacred waters of the pool, we call upon the powers of the West."

Finally, Seamus Finnegan spoke in his heavy Irish brogue, "With the blessing of the clear pure air, we call upon the powers of the East."

McGonagall raised her arms and brought them down quickly. "May the harmony of our circle be complete," she said, turning to Dumbledore.

The ancient wizard spoke clearly. "We stand upon this Holy Earth and in the Face of the Heavens to witness the Sacred Rite of Marriage between Ronald and Parvati. Just as we come together as family and friends, so we ask for the Greater Powers to be present here within our Circle. May this Sacred Union be filled with their Holy Presence. I invoke the God of Love whose name is Aengus mac Og to be present in this Sacred Place. In his name is Love declared." McGonagall smiled beautifully and completed the invocation. "I invoke the Goddess of the Bright Flame whose name is Brigid to be present in this Sacred Place. In Her name is Peace declared."

Dumbledore took McGonagall's hand and held it high in the air. "In the name of the Ancestors whose Traditions we honor..." he said.

She picked up the blessing, "...In the name of those who gave us Life..."

There was a light pause, then the Headmaster and Deputy Headmistress chanted together, "...May we all unite in Love."

Whispers broke out through the crowd and Ron and Parvati, clad in beautiful white robes, stepped forward into the circle. Hermione and Harry beamed at them, and they smiled back before stopping in front of Dumbledore and McGonagall. McGonagall blessed them both with a warm smile, then turned to the crowd. "Standing before us are Ronald and Parvati. May we all bid them hail and welcome."

"Hail!" the crowd shouted. Ron's ears turned pink.

Dumbledore stepped up to Parvati, and asked gently, "Are you Parvati?" "I am", she answered in a clear voice. "What is your desire?" the Headmaster asked, his eyes twinkling. She smiled at him, her breath catching as she spoke the next few words. "To be joined with Ronald in the presence of the Gods and our friends," she said. Dumbledore took the wreath of roses from the altar and placed it gently on her bowed head. "I welcome you with joy," he said solemnly.

McGonagall walked through the same lines with Ron, before placing the ivy wreath on his head.

Parvati's father, Rasheed, stepped forward, taking the ritual wand from the altar. He said to Ron, "I bring you Parvati, my child and my treasure. Take this wand and mind that always must you be strong, whole, and ready in service to protect thy bride." He handed the wand to Ron, who took it and replied, "I, Ronald, do vow this before the Gods of our people." "Then nothing may stand in your way!" Dumbledore said, his voice friendly and terrible all at once.

He turned back to Parvati, who was beginning to tear up, and said gently, "Take the hand of your love in yours. And say after me -- By seed and root, by bud and stem, by leaf and flower and fruit, by life and by love, in the name of the God, I take thee to my hand, my heart and my spirit, at the setting of the sun and the rising of the stars. Nor shall death part us, for in the ripeness of time we shall meet, and know, and remember, and love again. Flesh of thy flesh, bone of thy bone, I here, thou there, yet both as one."

Parvati held Ron's hand in hers and repeated the oath. McGonagall repeated the instructions for Ron, who recited them back to his bride, his eyes never leaving hers.

McGonagall motioned to someone standing in the crowd. It was Lavender Brown, Parvati's best friend, and she stepped forward, taking the cord McGonagall offered her. She gently bound Ron and Parvati's wrists together, saying, "May you be ever joined as one, happy and together before all you come to meet and know, and before the Divine." She kissed both of them and stepped back out of the circle.

McGonagall smiled at the couple, asking, "As the Sun and Moon bring light to the Earth do you Ronald, and Parvati, vow to bring the light of love and joy to the union?" "We do," they answered together. Dumbledore asked, "And do you vow to honor each other as you honor that which you hold most sacred?" "We do," they answered again. "And do you vow to maintain these vows in freedom, for as long as love shall last?" McGonagall asked. "We do," they answered a third time. Dumbledore turned to the crowd and announced, "Let our friends and our Gods bear witness that Parvati and Ronald are joined in love, joy and freedom."

"So let it be!" the crowd cheered.

McGonagall quickly unbound their wrists and placed the cord back on the altar, saying, "All things in Nature are circular - night becomes day, day becomes night and night becomes day again. The moon waxes and wanes and waxes again. There is Spring, Summer, Autumn, Winter and then the Spring returns. These things are part of the Great Mysteries. Ronald and Parvati, do you bring your symbols of these Great Mysteries of Life?"

Harry stepped forward and handed Ron's ring to Parvati with a smile. She accepted it and turned to Ron, speaking in a soft voice, "Ronald, I give you this ring as a symbol of my love for you. Let it remind you always, as it circles your finger, of my eternal love, surrounding you and enfolding you day and night. You are my beloved bridegroom and I marry you today with this ring as I give you my heart, my body and the very breath of my soul." She slipped the ring on his finger and he wiped a tear from her cheek, before taking Parvati's ring from Hermione, who had moved to hand it to him. "Parvati," he said, "I give you this ring as a symbol of my love for you. Let it remind you always, as it circles your finger, of my eternal love, surrounding you and enfolding you day and night. You are my beloved bride and I marry you today with this ring as I give you my heart, my body and the very breath of my soul." He slipped the ring on her finger as the crowd held its breath.

"Then seal your promise with a kiss," McGonagall said softly, wiping away a tear of her own. Ron and Parvati leaned forward and kissed gently while the crowd cheered. "Let those assembled here bear witness that Parvati and Ronald are joined in love. May their love partake of the beauty, majesty, and power of the sacred land and may they grow together in wisdom, joy, and harmony. My own blessings and the blessings of all those assembled be with you," Dumbledore proclaimed over the applause.

"The blessings of the Goddess and the Gods be with you," McGonagall said, joining hands with Dumbledore once more. "The blessings of the ancestors be with you," he answered. She added, "And with all that grows from your union." There was a pause, before Dumbledore cried to the crowd, "So let it be!"

"So let it be!" they yelled in return. Ron pulled Parvati into a hug and swung her around, lifting her, laughing, into the air. The crowd surged forward to congratulate the couple, and Hermione caught sighed of a black-clad figure moving quickly for the doors of the castle. Before she could decide whether to follow or not, Paul caught her arm and pulled her forward to join the celebrations.

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The next few weeks were miserable ones for Hermione. She had tried to break the news to Paul as gently as possible, but he hadn't taken it well. He kept accosting her after classes or showing up at her home unannounced. Hermione didn't tell Harry or Ron about the problems she was having with him, because she kept telling herself she had gotten into this mess and she'd get herself out. She couldn't expect them to keep running to her rescue they way they had in school.

After a while he stopped confronting her, for which Hermione was grateful. A few times when she went out, to pick up groceries or drop off some dry cleaning, she could have sworn that she was being followed, but dismissed it as paranoia. She was still sleeping badly, and wrote it off as that and nerves, nothing more.

For the first time ever, Hermione's grades started dropping and she wondered if returning to the Muggle world had been a mistake.

Severus had taken to stalking through the corridors with a scowl that could sour milk at three paces. He knew of no other way to handle the despair that was tearing him apart. He'd had a lot of time to think about the happenings of the summer and now realized that, while not the right thing, killing Karkaroff was in no way similar to what he had done as a Death Eater, and he was pretty sure Hermione knew that as well. He still felt overwhelming guilt that she'd been forced to use the Avada Kedavra curse herself because he hadn't been there to protect her, but mainly his pain came from the fact that he'd never had a chance to tell her how he felt. No, he thought, that's not true. He'd had the chance, and he'd blown it. He'd been so frightened that she would turn him away, that she would be afraid of him, that he'd never seized the opportunity.

He'd told her to leave.

He caught two sixth years necking in an abandoned classroom and immediately given them both detention and removed two hundred points from their houses. So lost in thought was Severus that he hadn't realized they'd been Slytherin.

Now, his beloved Hermione was dating that arrogant bastard who had been pawing at Ginny Weasley and every other female in the vicinity with his eyes. He'd been treating Hermione as a possession, and a worthless one at that. Couldn't he see what he had? The younger generation must be blind, he thought angrily.

He turned on his heel and started back to the dungeons, knowing there was more peace to be found there than anywhere else. He still had the book of poetry Hermione had given him last Christmas, and it was his last remaining measure of comfort. He remembered the nights of sitting with her in her comfortable living room, reading bits and pieces of poetry back and forth. Perhaps one day, he reflected wryly, he'd be able to look back on it and smile, instead of feeling like what was left of his heart were breaking.

That made him scowl even more, that his emotions could be so easily controlled by someone who had no clue of what she was capable.

As time passed, Hermione became less paranoid about being followed, and more sure that it was really happening. She caught sight of Paul at all of her usual haunts. Finally, a few weeks before Christmas, she owled Harry with her concerns. She had been giving a lot of thought to the Obliviate spell, which would wipe his memory of her and everything she'd told him about the wizarding world, but she was reluctant to tamper with someone's mind unless it was imperative to do so.

So was the Ministry, apparently. Harry's response stated that by using Obliviate without due cause, she risked bringing unwanted attention on her, so soon after having cast Avada Kedavra. With the aurors' intervention, she had escaped being prosecuted for using the Unforgivable solely because her life was in danger.

Paul knew about the wizarding world, yes, but he'd done nothing to expose it, nor had he made any threats to her well being. With no magical alternative, she started looking into what the Muggle world could do. She learned that unless you're a celebrity, or there have been threats, nothing could be done. The police officer she questioned had offered to have a restraining order filed, but Hermione just shook her head. Paul never got close enough to her to violate any terms, but she kept her windows and doors locked, just the same.

Christmas was approaching rapidly, and unlike last year, she had no heart for it. Regardless, she purchased a tree, pulled down the decorations from the attic, and went to work on it, mainly to keep her mind on a task at hand. She'd turned on the radio, and the strains of carols filled the room. Crookshanks, who was normally underfoot, had fled, probably fearing another holiday bow, she thought with amusement. The Weasleys had invited her to spend Christmas Day with them at The Burrow, but she hadn't yet decided if she would accept. Although she loved them dearly, they were too much of a reminder of everything she had lost.

Once the tree was arranged, she realized there were no gifts to place underneath it. She grabbed her cloak, preparing to Floo to Diagon Alley, when a knock sounded at her door. Frowning in confusion, she opened the door to find Neville Longbottom loaded with flats of plants and a nervous smile on his face.

"Hi, Hermione," he said awkwardly. "I've not come at a bad time, have I?"

"Neville! No, not at all! Come in... what's all this?"

He surrendered half the load to Hermione gratefully. "Well, I'd started the seedlings I'd need for next year's stock when I realized I had planted far too many, and I remembered you talking about your garden. I thought perhaps you'd like some of them. You can keep them inside until spring thaw," he said.

"Thank you, Neville," she said, touched by this thoughtfulness. "Let's get these in the kitchen."

They unloaded the flats on the counter and Hermione made some hot chocolate. They sat in the living room, catching up on the events since they had last spoken at Ron's wedding. Hermione confessed that she and Paul were not together anymore, but that he seemed to be following her. "The only time I can get away is if I Floo somewhere, or apparate."

Neville looked worried. "Can't you Obliviate him?" he asked. "The Ministry's officials think it wouldn't be a good idea, after what happened with Karkaroff this summer", she said hesitantly. He looked unconvinced. "I know what you did- everyone does- but self defense is different than going around slaughtering people like the Death Eaters did, and if the Ministry doesn't know the difference, perhaps we need new officials," he said, in a venomous tone she had never heard him use.

"I can't blame the Ministry. They won't treat me any differently because I'm the best friend of The Boy Who Lived, and I'm glad of that. I just wish there were something I could do. Knowing he's somewhere out there creeps me out," she replied, shuddering.

Neville peered over his shoulder, as if he expected to see Paul standing behind him. "Well, either way, I'm glad you're not with him anymore. I didn't like him very much."

She laughed. "Neither did Ron or Harry."

Neville changed the subject, and they were chatting about Hermione's after college plans, when her front door was thrown open. They both jumped up to see Paul charge into the room, a gun in his hands. Neville, not knowing what a gun was, was struck by the pallor that had come over Hermione's face. "Go! Get help!" she whispered, not moving her eyes from Paul's hand.

Neville apparated out and Paul advanced, rage apparent in his eyes.


	20. Chapter Twenty

"Paul," Hermione said, marveling that her voice sounded strong, even if she was trembling inside, "Put the gun down."

"Or what?" he smirked. "Your boyfriend," he spat, "might have gotten away, but I can still take care of you, you whore."

"He's not my boyfriend, and you and I both know I can take that gun right out of your hands," Hermione said, inching towards him, her wand ready. She hoped he couldn't tell that she was bluffing. She didn't dare use Accio while his finger was still on the trigger.

His hand shook, but he kept the weapon aimed at her. "Why don't you do it then?" he asked belligerently. She could see the smugness his face. They both knew he had the upper hand.

Neville, she thought, where ever you are, hurry!

Neville was not nearly as stupid as most of his classmates thought. He didn't know where either Harry or Ron could be found, and didn't want to waste time trying to find them. He knew there was one other place he could go for help that would come instantly and ask questions later. He was there now, running across the lawn as fast as his legs could carry him, feeling that whatever Paul was intending to do, it couldn't be good. "Lumos," he huffed, and the tip of his wand glowed, giving him some much needed light.

"What is the meaning of this?" a voice said harshly from the shore of the lake. Neville's legs almost gave out with relief as he saw the familiar silhouette come into view. Snape always knew what to do.

"Professor," he gasped, fighting for breath. "Hermione! Help!"

In the dim light Neville's wand was casting, the younger boy could have almost sworn he saw the stern Potions Master's face go even whiter than normal before he turned and ran, Neville following behind him, to the gates where they could apparate out.

"At her home?" Snape rasped as they neared the wrought iron fencing. "Yessir," he said, apparating out a split second after Snape.

Hermione quickly changed tactics. "Paul," she said, moving closer still, "I don't want to hurt you. Can't you see that?"

Paul trembled, but whether it was rage or nerves, Hermione couldn't tell, until he spoke. "Why'd you do it, you bitch? Think you're too good for me?" he yelled, his face contorting. He moved forward so quickly Hermione didn't have time to duck and brought the hand holding the gun crashing into the side of her face. She fell instantly, as Severus and Neville raced through the door.

"Serpensortia!" Severus yelled, hoping to shock the bastard into loosening his grip on the Muggle weapon.

Paul's face drained of all color when he saw the giant snake shoot from the end of the wand and bear down on him. He brought the gun around once more, but aimed at the snake rather than either of the men. "Now, Longbottom," Severus hissed. At the same instant, Neville raised his wand and shouted, "Expelliarmus!" The gun whipped out of Paul's nerveless hand as he flew back and crashed into the wall.

"Finite Incantatum," Severus muttered absentmindedly as he rushed to Hermione's side. His deft fingers found her pulse quickly, it was still strong, if a little slow. He lifted her easily and turned to Neville, who was binding Paul with ropes shooting from the end of his wand. "I'm taking her to Poppy Pomfrey," Severus said quickly, not sure of the extend of her injuries.

Neville nodded his assent. "I'll take care of things here. The Ministry will need to be notified."

As Severus apparated out with Hermione safely in his arms, Neville crossed the room and contacted the proper authorities via the fireplace.

Madam Pomfrey took one look at Hermione's face and set to work. Her jaw had been broken, eye socket fractured, and she had a nasty concussion, but the skilled medi-witch was able to deal with all three in short order. She had tried to send Severus out of the room, claiming he was doing more harm than good by distracting her, but finally relented when it became obvious that nothing could pry the concerned man from Hermione's side.

After giving her patient a light sedative, she pulled a chair up next to the one Severus was occupying and said, "Now, tell me what happened." Severus related the story best he could, his gaze moving to Hermione often.

"A Muggle did this?" Poppy exclaimed. "Why couldn't she just disarm him?" Severus explained what he knew of guns, which Hermione had explained to him when they watched Lethal Weapon. "Apparently, he'd be able to fire the weapon faster than she could speak the words of any spells. That little piece of metal can kill people as surely as Avada Kedavra can." Poppy shivered at the words and the thought of Muggles wielding that power.

"Poppy, how is she?" Dumbledore's voice came from the doorway, sounding very old.

She quickly filled the Headmaster in, and then left the two men alone, closing the door quietly behind her.

"I have talked to the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement," Dumbledore said, taking Poppy's empty chair. "Harry had tried to get permission for either himself or Hermione to use Obliviate on the Muggle. He was denied."

Severus' eyes narrowed. "She suspected she was in danger and they denied her permission?"

Dumbledore nodded sadly. "Harry's told me Hermione suspected she was being followed by the fellow for quite some time after she ended their relationship. Apparently the Ministry did not feel she was in any danger by being watched, since the Muggle already knew her nature, and there was also the concern after she used an Unforgivable. Rumor has it that Minister Weasley is out for blood. He was told nothing of the request until tonight."

"What of the Muggle?" Severus asked shortly.

Dumbledore steepled his fingertips. "Ah, yes. The irony of it is he's now Obliviated. I believe they turned him over the his own authorities."

Severus felt his blood start to boil. "I would hope that the Ministry would have learned that Hermione does not request such things on a whim."

Dumbledore chucked softly, "That is what Percy is telling them as well. I expect we'll have a new Head by tomorrow."

"Yes, well, tomorrow is too late to help her," Severus said, staring at the prone form on the bed.

Dumbledore rose from his seat. "It's never too late, Severus. You, of all people, should know that," he reminded gently. He laid a comforting hand on Severus' shoulder before leaving the room.

Severus spent the night in the chair, keeping watch over her, until Harry and Neville arrived just before sunrise.

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Hermione awoke slowly, feeling groggy and disoriented. When she opened her eyes she became aware of two things; first, her jaw felt tight and sore, and secondly, the ceiling over her head, while familiar, was not her own. She worked her jaw a few times, trying to loosen the stiffness on the left side of her face.

"Hey," Harry's voice drifted over to her. She turned her head and saw him sitting next to the bed. She blinked a few times. How had she gotten to the hospital wing at Hogwarts?

Harry had anticipated her question. "You took a pretty bad thump to the head last night," he reminded her gently. Hermione raised her hand to the side of her face and prodded the tender skin with her fingers. "Paul had a gun," she said quietly. "Yes," Harry smiled grimly, "but you don't need to worry about him. The Muggle police have him in custody."

"But how did I get here?" she mumbled, trying not to move her mouth too much.

"Snape brought you here," he said. "Neville came here to get help and by the time they got to your house, Paul had just knocked you out. They were able to disarm him and Neville stayed behind to deal with the Ministry officials. I didn't hear anything until Neville contacted me early this morning."

"Severus... he saved me again?" she asked, close to tears. Harry nodded. "Oh, Harry," she said in a small voice.

The door opened quietly and Neville stuck his head in. Harry motioned to him and he crept over to Hermione's side. "How are you feeling?" he asked anxiously.

"Sore, but alive," she answered, trying to smile. "Thank you for everything, Neville. You saved my life. I'm so sorry you had to get caught up in this mess."

Neville waved it off. "I'm glad I was there. I don't want to think what would have happened if I weren't, but I wish we could have gotten there sooner."

"What made you come for Snape?" Hermione couldn't resist asking.

"I didn't, I was looking for any professor actually. He was the first one I ran into when I got here. He was brilliant though. As soon as I mentioned you needed help, he ran to the gates so fast I couldn't keep up, and he stayed here with you until Harry and I arrived this morning."

Curious behavior for someone who doesn't give a damn, Hermione thought resentfully. Harry slipped out of the room and returned with Madam Pomfrey, who gave Hermione a potion to finish healing her sore jaw. It started working almost immediately, but the medi-witch insisted she stay put for the rest of the day. "You took a nasty blow last night, dear," she said in a tone that left no room for argument. "You must rest." Hermione acquiesced and lay back on the pillows.

Neville stayed by her side for the rest of the morning, but Harry said he needed to talk to Dumbledore about some things and took his leave, promising to come back later. Shortly before lunch, Ron showed up, looking murderous himself until Madam Pomfrey threatened not to let him in unless he held his temper.

The two boys did their best to keep Hermione entertained and her mind off the terrifying events of the night before. They even had a few games of Exploding Snap before Madam Pomfrey swept in and scolded them all. "Honestly, you'd think you were still students," she exclaimed, exasperated, but her smile told them they were forgiven.

"Once a student, always a student," Dumbledore said, chuckling, from the doorway. They turned to see him sweep into the room, his purple robes swirling. "How are you, my dear?" he asked, leaning down to peer at Hermione's face.

"I'm feeling much better, Professor," she said. "Madam Pomfrey was wonderful."

The medi-witch snorted, but patted her hand just the same. "You've become quite the charmer, Miss Granger," she said, pointing her wand at Hermione's left eye and muttering a few words under her breath. The wand tip glowed green, and Poppy smiled. "Looking good. You're free to go now, if you wish. Everything's healed nicely," she said, making notes on a piece of parchment then leaving the room.

Hermione smiled broadly and swung her legs over the side of the bed. "I'd like a word with you in my office, if you will," Dumbledore said, his eyes somber. "Come when ever you're finished here. The password is sugar quills."

She agreed, and Dumbledore left her alone with Ron and Neville once more.

"I wonder what Dumbledore wants?" Ron asked, puzzled. Hermione shrugged, but the corner of her mouth twisted sardonically. "Maybe he's going to lecture me on my taste in men?"

The two guys stared at her for a beat before simultaneously bursting into laughter.

Hermione took a deep breath before allowing the stairs to carry her to Dumbledore's office. Despite the joking manner in which she responded to Ron's question, she was apprehensive about what the Headmaster wanted. Relax, Granger, she told herself. You're not a student anymore. He can't expel you.

She knocked timidly on the door, and it swung open to admit her to the office. Dumbledore sat behind the huge desk, his hands folded and his face serene.

"Ah, Miss Granger. Thank you for coming," he said, waving at one of the chairs. Hermione sat, waiting to hear what the Headmaster had to say.

"Have you given thought to whether you will remain in the Muggle world?" he asked without preamble.

Hermione blinked. She had been giving it much thought, as a matter of fact, but she wondered exactly how Dumbledore knew that. She hadn't told anyone about her fears. "Actually, I have," she answered softly. "It doesn't seem to hold much for me anymore."

Dumbledore smiled. "Then perhaps it is most fortuitous," he said, "that we have a position open here at Hogwarts, starting when classes resume after the winter break. Minerva needs a teaching assistant, someone who will be trained to take over her classes for next year, when she takes over as headmistress. Would you be interested?"

Her mouth opened wordlessly. She hadn't been sure what to expect when she walked in, but a job offer definitely wasn't it. She tried several times to form a response, but only managed a weak, "Sir?"

"I will be retiring at the end of the year. As I recall, you were the best Transfiguration student this school has turned out in many years. The pay isn't the greatest, I'm afraid, but room and board are, of course, free, and we have a splendid benefits package," the aged wizard said, his eyes twinkling merrily. Hermione tried unsuccessfully to fight back a grin.

"I'd be honored, Professor. Thank you."

"No, Miss Granger, or should I say Professor? You've done me a great service by accepting the position, and I'm sure you'll be a splendid teacher once you are properly trained. I'll have Minerva show you to your quarters. You can begin moving in immediately."


	21. Chapter Twenty One

Severus had no idea how he got through the day. He'd had no sleep, and his emotions were in raging inside his head. Thankfully, he'd only had to manage three classes that day, all of them fourth year or higher. He had a vague recollection of assigning a basic first year potion, but he wasn't sure. It seemed as if that part of the day had happened a long time ago.

His last class had filed out the the room, silent with confusion, a quarter of an hour ago, and once he was sure none of them would return with last minutes questions, he collapsed at his desk and buried his face in his hands. She was here, at Hogwarts, and she had been hurt. Half of him wanted to run to her and lose himself in her embrace; the other half wanted to lock himself in his dungeons until he could be sure she was gone. How exactly had he got himself in this mess? he wondered.

"You ran from her," a voice answered from the back of the Potions classroom. So shocked was Severus that he actually jumped in his seat before he saw who had spoken.

"What do you want, Potter?" he sighed, not bothering with his masking snarl. Not that he mattered, he thought. Potter could see straight through it.

"I want to know why you left Hermione, Professor. You should have went back to her. She was frantic with worry." The young man glared so powerfully that if there were any justice in the world, Severus would now be lying somewhere six feet under.

"How typically Gryffindor of you," Severus muttered, running a hand through his jet black hair.

Harry threw his hands up in frustration. "Why won't you talk to her? She told me she tried to visit you afterward, and you ordered her to leave."

"Look, Potter," Severus scowled, sick of being lectured by this git of a boy, "You didn't see the look in her eyes when she turned to me after I killed Karkaroff. I did! I'm no good for her. You of all people should know that!"

"You're right, Professor. I didn't see it. I only held her later that night, when she was sobbing because you, great fool that you are, ran out on her!" Harry shouted. He remembered the desolation in Hermione's eyes and his anger evaporated, leaving only a disquieting melancholy. He suddenly felt very tired and sat in one of the empty desks.

"Listen, Professor, please. Just go talk to her. Tell her how you feel. You have nothing to lose, really, and everything to gain," he said quietly, pleading with his eyes.

"What if she hates me now? She saw me kill a man in front of her, Potter. People don't just forget that," Severus said bitterly.

"You saved her."

"I damned her! She had to kill someone, with an Unforgivable no less, because I wasn't there!" Severus said vehemently, pounding his fist on the desktop.

"She thought you were dead! She thought they'd killed you, damn it, and that's why she did it! But you'd know that, wouldn't you, if you just talked to her!" Harry exclaimed, disgusted by the whole matter. "How typically Slytherin of you, to assume you know peoples' emotions when you haven't a clue."

"Enough!" Severus growled, standing so quickly his chair shot back. "How dare you talk to me about emotions when you understand nothing about this!"

"Don't I?" Harry asked, looking both resigned and tired beyond his years.

Severus stared at The Boy Who Lived, an unreadable expression on his face. "You're in love with her too," he said softly. Harry shrugged. "I didn't realize it until it was too late, but yeah, I suppose I am."

"Why don't you tell her, Potter?" Severus asked sardonically. Harry met his gaze and held it. "Because I'm not what she needs and we both know it."

"And I am?" Severus laughed bitterly, "That's rich, especially coming from you."

Harry rose from his seat. "I'm not here to tell you what Hermione feels. That's for her to do, if you'll just listen." He turned to leave.

"Potter."

He glanced back at Severus but said nothing.

"If you're... why are you here?" Severus asked.

Harry smiled wistfully. "For the same reasons you've been avoiding her. I want her to be happy, Professor, regardless of the cost to myself."

Severus sighed, smoothing down the front of his robes. "And you think I can do that?"

"No, Professor," Harry said sadly. "I'm counting on it." He walked quietly out of the classroom and left Severus alone with his thoughts once more.

He found her exiting the doorway by Dumbledore's stone gargoyle. As soon as she saw him, she threw herself into his arms. "I'm going to be a Professor!" she exclaimed. Harry laughed and held her at arm's length. "Yes, I know. Dumbledore told me about the position and I had a feeling he was going to offer it to you. You're perfect for it."

"I can't believe it! I'm going to be working with Minerva and Remus and..." she trailed off, looking suddenly dismayed.

"Snape," Harry offered bluntly.

"I didn't think of that," she whispered. "Oh, Merlin, he's going to hate me for this."

Harry took her gently by the shoulders. "Don't worry about that right now," he said. "One thing at a time. Let's go back to your house and get started on all that packing."

"Yes," Hermione said softly. "There's a lot to be done. I... I think I'll keep the house, though. I can't live there, but I can go back for summer holidays if I want."

Harry smiled gently. "That sounds good, but you don't have to decide right now."

She looked slightly shellshocked. "It's happening so fast, Harry. I'm not sure what to think."

He tugged her forward until her feet started to move. "You can start," he said, "by realizing that it can only get better."

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With a powerful witch and wizard utilizing their talents, it didn't take long before most of Hermione's belongings were safely packed away in boxes and shrunk enough to fit in her old school trunk. Harry found himself fascinated by the stories Hermione told him as she packed. It seemed each item in the Granger home had a tale attached to it, and he couldn't help but feel that that is the way a family should be. He'd had a few scarce letters from his aunt Petunia since leaving Hogwarts, but while their relationship was mending, it wasn't anything like he imagined his future family to be.

The last room they tackled was Hermione's bedroom. They directed books, photos, clothing, and knicknacks in the boxes with their wands. "Should I pack this too?" Harry asked jokingly, holding up the worn stuffed lion from Hermione's bed.

She looked affronted. "Of course. Aslan goes where I do."

"Aslan?" he said, amused, but he tucked the lion away carefully between two pillows. Hermione scowled at him, half in and half out of the closet where she was sorting clothes. "Don't laugh," she said. "He's the first toy I owned, and my favorite. Mum picked him out the day she found out she was expecting me. 'The Lion, The Witch, And The Wardrobe' was one of my favorite books as a child, and I still love it." She smiled, her mind miles away. "I almost felt like Lucy the day I got my Hogwarts letter, discovering this whole other world before me."

"I know what you mean," Harry said, folding a robe. They worked quietly for a few minutes, then Harry spoke again.

"'Mione?"

"Hmmmm?", she asked, tossing a shoe behind her.

"Do you want kids? You know, later?" he asked, trying to picture a son or daughter of his own. Hermione crawled out of the closet, sat on the floor, and eyed him thoughtfully. "I'm not sure," she said after a moment. "I don't think I do. I can't imagine myself with a little Fred or George." Harry grinned at the mental image. "No," he agreed, "I think you're right."

"You want one though. A child, I mean, not a Weasley twin," she smiled.

"I do. I've always wanted a family. It's one of the things I've never had," he said, laying back on the bed. "You have Sirius," Hermione pointed out. "Yes, and he's wonderful and all, but it's not the same," Harry sighed.

"I don't suppose it is," she said, picking a piece of lint from the carpet, "but sometimes the family you choose is even more important than the family you're born with. Vernon Dursley is a perfect example."

He chuckled. "You're right, there," he said, looking around the bare room. "You finished here?"

"Not quite. I want that bed you're lying on." Harry stood up and Hermione minimized it with her wand. She nodded then, standing with a sigh. "Now I am. We should get going. Dumbledore wanted to announce the news in a staff meeting after dinner. If I hurry, I'll just make it."

Harry shrunk the last few boxes and closed the top of the trunk. With a flick of his wand, it levitated, ready to follow them down the stairs.

Hermione took one last look at the deserted room. Never had it looked so empty, even when she was away at school. She sighed softly, then flicked the light switch and closed the door behind her.


	22. Chapter Twenty Two

A short time later, Hermione walked into Hogwarts castle to find Professors Dumbledore and McGonagall waiting for her. Dumbledore summoned a house-elf to take her belongings to her chambers while McGonagall hugged her warmly. "I'm glad it's you, dear," she said, "I know my classes will be in capable hands."

They ushered her into the staff room, where a few of the other professors were waiting. Hermione was greeted enthusiastically by tiny Flitwick, who squeaked his approval at Dumbledore's choice. Severus was noticeably absent.

As they settled in, more and more of the staff arrived, until there was only one empty seat left, at the far end of the table. Many of them cast curious glances at Hermione, and she inferred that not all of the staff knew of her placement yet. She wondered if Severus had heard. To Hermione's chagrin, Professor Trelawney sat beside her and insisted on taking a look at her palm to see what the coming year held.

"Oh, dear," Trelawney said clearly, tracing her fingernail over the lines in Hermione's hand. "This isn't good at all. I see much sadness and despair in your future... I fear to tell you exactly how much. Mundane minds simply can not handle the facts of their own demise," she said, somewhat smugly. McGonagall rolled her eyes and someone snorted from the doorway.

It was Severus, entering the room with his customary black robes billowing behind him. "If that is what you see, Sybil, Miss Granger should live a long and happy life." He pulled the empty chair from beneath the table and sat down, his eyes flicking to Dumbledore's. "I apologize for my tardiness. A situation in the Slytherin dorms required my presence."

"It's quite all right, Severus. This meeting promises to be a short one. I wanted to introduce our newest professor. Everyone, I trust you remember Hermione Granger?"

The few who hadn't already heard the news turned to Hermione with delight, with one notable exception. Severus said nothing, only looked at her with an unreadable expression. Hermione glanced at him briefly before turning her attention back to Dumbledore.

"Professor Granger will act as a teaching assistant to Minerva starting after the winter break. She will take over the Transfiguration classes next year, while Minerva will fill my position. I will be publicly announcing my retirement at the end of this year."

Shocked silence greeted the pronouncement, before several people started speaking at one. Dumbledore held up a slender hand. "I have devoted my life to teaching in one form or another. I am looking forward to the peace and quiet. Perhaps I will take up knitting," he said, smiling.

Once the staff had a chance to absorb the news, there were congratulations all around. Dumbledore beamed at his professors. "Thank you, my dears. Now, unless anyone else has pressing news, I declare this meeting over. I have a mountain of paperwork to sift through before I can sleep."

The other professors started gathering their things and filing out of the room. Hermione was filling Remus in on the happenings of the past few days when she sensed someone standing behind her.

It was Severus. For a moment he just looked at her face, and said nothing. Suddenly, as if aware of Remus' curious expression, he nodded briskly and said, "Welcome home, Professor Granger."

She felt tears prick at the corners of her eyes, remembering their conversation by the lake that night so long ago. "Thank you," she said, giving him the briefest of smiles.

He turned without another word and swept out of the staff room, leaving Hermione and Remus staring after him.

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Hermione moved around her new chambers, unpacking her belongings. A fire roared in the hearth, making the room unreasonably hot and stuffy. She'd changed out of her heavy robes, preferring a Muggle tank top and cutoff shorts, and was thinking about extinguishing the fire altogether when a knock from her front door distracted her.

"It's open," she called, using her wand to direct the magical mirror to a suitable position on her wall. She heard the door open and close, and expecting Remus, asked, "Which wall, do you think? The mirror didn't have a preference."

Instead of Remus' hoarse voice, a silky one answered. "There, over the dresser."

She whirled around so fast that the mirror dropped. Severus saved it at the last minute with a quick Leviosa spell, which caused the mirror to mutter to Hermione in a cranky voice, "Really, dear, was that necessary?" He floated the mirror over the dresser and anchored it with a few words, then slid his wand back into the folds of his robes.

She just stared at him, not daring to say anything lest he disappear.

"May I?" he gestured to the sofa she had returned to full size. She gave a sharp nod and he sat down awkwardly, craning his neck to look up to where she stood, motionless. "There's no need to loom over me," he said acerbically. Her lips twitched, "Now you know how your students feel," but she sat down as well.

He had the good graces to look abashed. "Touché," he said, conceding the point.

She folded her arms over her chest. "Did you want something?" she asked blandly. He gracefully raised a slender shoulder and let it fall again. "No... yes... I don't know."

Hermione had seen several sides of Severus Snape over the years she had known him, but she'd never seen him confused. It melted her defenses, and before she meant to say anything at all, she asked, "Why did you leave? Why wouldn't you answer my letters?"

He looked away, unable to face her honest eyes. "I left because I thought you hated me."

She flinched. "Did I do anything to give you that impression?"

"I killed a man in front of you. I let them get to you," he answered truthfully. "When I took your hand to apparate, you looked terrified."

"Of course I was terrified. I thought they'd killed you, and I'd just taken a life as well. I'd never been... I was so relieved to see you, Severus. I was sure my worst fears were coming to life when I awoke to see them hovering over me, and I just snapped. I kept thinking, not that I was going to die, but that they'd killed you, and I'd been asleep, just a few rooms away!" Her face was full of anguish as she gazed at him.

He closed his eyes in pain. "I'm sorry, Hermione. I was so sure that what I had done would drive you away. I was afraid you wouldn't see who I am when you looked at me, but who I used to be, and who I was in the moment I killed Karkaroff."

"In the moment you killed Karkaroff, you saved me. I told you once before you were a good man, Severus. My opinion hasn't changed," she said softly, aching to touch him.

He swallowed audibly and faced her for the first time since she'd asked her question. The relief was apparent in his eyes. "Can you forgive me?" he whispered. She smiled gently. "I already have."

He looked ashamed. "I never read your letters. I'm sorry."

It took a moment for that to sink in. She blinked. He didn't know? "You didn't?" she asked breathlessly.

He shook his head. "I know I should have, but... why are you laughing?" he asked suspiciously.

She bit her lip to fight back the giggles threatening to escape. "Oh, no reason," she said, as Crookshanks jumped on her lap. She shifted to accommodate the cat's sizable girth, and the light caught off several tiny diamonds hanging between her breasts.

His lips curved in a smile. "You're still wearing the necklace," he said, ridiculously pleased. She nodded. "I never take it off," she said quietly. Unthinkingly, he reached out a trembling fingertip to touch the tiny instrument. It started to play softly, and as he withdrew his hand, Hermione caught it in her own.

"Severus..." she began, not knowing what she was going to say.

He interrupted her, "The day of the attack, the Death Eaters didn't find me because I went for a walk."

"I know," she said, puzzled. "I found your note later."

"I realized something that day, Hermione," he said. "I don't expect you to feel the same way, but you're the best friend I've ever had..."

Her heart sank. He had somehow guessed her feelings and had come to let her down easy.

"...that day I realized it's more than just that, however. I'm in love you, and perhaps I was running from my feelings as well when I left. I hope this won't change our friendship. It's... it's the only thing I have," he said, embarrassed at how needy he sounded.

Her mouth opened wordlessly before she burst out laughing. Severus drew back, a muscle high in his cheek jumping as he set his jaw. He'd expected many different reactions, but this wasn't one of them.

"Of course it changes things," she said, giddily. "You really should have read my letters."

"Really," muttered Severus, nursing his pride. "Care to tell me why?"

"Because I spilled my heart to you in them, you git. I've been in love with you for ages, only I was too stupid to realize it. Remember, there's nothing in the library about it," she grinned.

The naked hope in Severus' face was too much for her. She dumped Crookshanks out of her lap and threw herself into his arms, as she'd been wanting to for what seemed like a lifetime.

"Oh, Hermione," he whispered, his voice caressing her name, "can you really mean it?"

She ran her fingers through his soft black hair and drew his face close to hers. "More than you'll ever know," she answered, before his lips met hers for the first time.

She was aware of nothing but Severus, his kiss soft and warm, his body hard and unyielding against hers. When they drew back for a breath, her head was spinning and her knees were weak. She smiled beautifully before allowing his mouth to capture hers once more.

"There, there," said the mirror, "Isn't that nice?"

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The weather was unseasonably warm for Easter break, and Hermione was making the most of it. Very few students were left at the school, so the grounds were practically deserted. She leaned against the tree trunk and turned her face toward the sun, smiling happily.

Her training was going well. She was confident that come September, she'd be fully capable of leading the students through the art of Transfiguration, as was McGonagall. Dumbledore had spoken to Severus about taking the position of Deputy Headmaster once Minerva was in charge. All was set for the changes, but for now, Hermione wasn't going to think about them. She was going to relax in the sunshine and enjoy every minute of it. She'd had precious little time to do that lately.

She'd almost fallen asleep when she heard something moving stealthily next to her. She lazily opened one eye and peered into the bright light. Just a rabbit, she thought, closing her eyes once more, before feeling warm lips kissing the side of her neck. "Mmmm," she murmured, tilting her head to allow better access. "Why, Professor Snape, whatever are you doing?" she asked teasingly.

"Whatever it is, is it working?" he countered. "Oh, I'd say so," she laughed, dropping a kiss on his lips before drawing away. "I don't think Albus would approve of us necking like teenagers on the lawn," she said, amused, as he gave a small pout. "You're right, as usual," he answered, pulling her back to lean against his chest.

"You don't look at all repentant," Hermione scolded. He grinned. "I'm not. What's that?" he said, pointing to a parchment lying on the grass by her knee.

"A letter from Ron. Parvati's pregnant."

"Oh?" Severus sounded amused. "Let us all hope it's not twins."

"Oh, heavens, no!" Hermione shuddered at the thought of another pair of Weasleys. "I love Fred and George, don't get me wrong, but it's a miracle the school's still standing."

He chuckled and twirled a lock of her hair around his finger. "That it is. Those two lost Gryffindor almost as many points as you and your two sidekicks did."

She grinned up at him. "But, much to your chagrin, we always earned them back."

"Yes, well..." he muttered, looking pained as she laughed.

"You know," she said thoughtfully, "the day Albus offered me the job here, Harry asked me if I wanted kids. All I could picture was trying to discipline a little Fred or George, and told him so. Have you ever wanted children?"

He hesitated, then answered truthfully. "I already have a tower full of children. I've never felt the need for any of my own."

She let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding. "I knew there was a reason I loved you," she joked, but he could see the relief in her brown eyes. He ran his hand over her flat stomach and grinned mischievously.

"So, Professor Granger, what do you say we go up to my room and get started on those children we're not going to have?" She laughed and allowed him to help her up before they walked back to the castle.

From his office window, Dumbledore watched the happy couple cross the lawn and smiled.

That evening before dinner, Hermione was on Severus' oversized bed, leaning against a couple of pillows, trying to grade some essays that McGonagall had given her. Severus was on his side, propped up on one elbow, watching her mark the parchments with her quill. Finally, she tossed them aside, groaning.

"I give up. Was I this helpless in first year?" she asked turning to look at him. He opened his mouth to answer, and she pressed a finger to his lips. "On second thought, don't answer that. I'd rather not know." He grinned.

"Don't you have work to do?" she asked grumpily.

"I finished it on the second day of break," he replied. She glared. "I must learn to manage my time better," she muttered.

"I know what will make you feel better," Severus said, rising from the bed. He returned a moment later with a bottle of wine and two glasses. He filled one and handed it to her. She sipped it gratefully, the sweet liquid sliding down her throat like velvet. "What are we toasting?" she asked.

He set his own glass on the bedside table. "Hold still," he murmured, lightly brushing her cheek. "You had an eyelash there. Close your eyes and make a wish," he smiled, bringing his fingertip close to her lips.

She did as he asked, pausing only a moment before blowing gently on his hand. "Is it gone?" she asked, her eyes still shut.

"See for yourself," he whispered.

She gasped. Severus was kneeling by the bed, holding a box that contained a stunningly vivid solitaire ring. "Hermione," he said, his voice shaking slightly, "You taught me what it means to live, and then to love. You looked into my soul and set me free. With everything that I have, and everything that I am, I honor and cherish you. Will you marry me?"

She blinked away the tears that had formed in her eyes and nodded, not trusting her voice. He broke into a smile so joyful that it dimmed everything else in the room and slid the ring reverently onto her finger. The next moment she was in his arms, and he held her close, as if she were a dream he was afraid to wake from, both of them whispering words of love.

"You never did say what we were toasting," she reminded him later, caressing his face gently.

He kissed her lightly. "How about us?"

Hermione drew back to study her left hand. The band was mokume, swirled silver and gold, with a large dark red gem she couldn't identify. "It's Alexandrite," he said, following her gaze, "prized for its color-changing abilities."

"What do you mean?" she asked.

He withdrew his wand and a pale flash of sunlight emerged from the tip. "Look at it now," he suggested. "It's green!" she exclaimed. He nodded. "Alexandrite changes from red in artificial light to green in natural light."

"Gold and crimson for Gryffindor, silver and green for Slytherin," she murmured, touched by his reasoning.

"Yes," he said, pulling her close. "A perfect marriage."


	23. Chapter Twenty Three

The day of the wedding arrived faster than Hermione could have imagined. The Weasley women, Molly, Ginny, and Parvati, arrived early to help the bride prepare for her special day.

After much thought, Hermione had opted for a Muggle style wedding, with select wizarding traditions like the binding added. Severus was pleased with the idea, and the Great Hall was being prepared by Flitwick and Sprout to serve as a chapel.

Parvati, already round in the stomach, was expertly applying makeup to Hermione's face while Ginny was fussing with her hair. Molly had woven a wreath of tea roses and baby's breath that would later be placed around the veil that was lying over one of the chairs.

"Are you sure you don't want a bit of toast, dear?" Molly asked Hermione.

"I'm sure, Mrs. Weasley. I'm so nervous right now I couldn't eat a thing."

Molly patted her hand fondly. "I understand. I was the same way on my wedding day."

Parvati stepped back, pleased with the results of her handiwork. "All done, and you look beautiful, if I do say so myself."

Molly nodded approvingly. Hermione started to reach for a mirror, but Ginny smacked her hand away. "Not until I'm done. You'll want the whole effect."

"You've become quite the little dictator," Hermione muttered. Ginny snorted. "I have to be. You do remember who I'm dating, don't you?" The girls burst out laughing, and even Molly smiled. "Poor Draco isn't here to defend himself," she chided gently, which made them laugh even harder.

"Trust me, Mum," Parvati said between giggles, "Draco doesn't need defending."

"There! Hand me the wreath and veil, will you?" Ginny asked, and Molly handed them over. A few moments later, she placed the mirror in Hermione's hand.

They were right, she thought. She looked beautiful, a word that she'd never associated with herself, although Severus did, quite often. Ginny had styled her curls into an intricate twist, with a few loosely framing her face. Parvati had accentuated her creamy skin and eyes, and her lips were a shimmery pink. She couldn't believe the change that two girls and an hour had accomplished.

"Don't cry!" Parvati ordered laughingly. "You'll mess it up!"

She sniffed a few times and laughed. "Thank you, all of you."

"Time to get dressed now," Molly said, taking charge. "The ceremony will be starting before too much longer."

The younger Weasleys slipped into their bridesmaid dresses, then helped Hermione into her slender satin gown. She had chosen something tailored and elegant rather than the popular fairy-tale "poof dresses", as she had dubbed them. As soon as it was on, all three women took one took, started pulling out tissues, then directed her to the large standing mirror.

A good cry and a few makeup repairs later, someone knocked on the door. Parvati peeked out, then opened the door. "It's just Harry and Ron," she said, letting the men in. The stood handsomely in their Muggle tuxes, although Ron pulled slightly at his collar.

They stopped short when Hermione turned around. "You look perfect, Hermione," Ron said, reverence in his voice, before glancing at his wife. "Did I get it right?" he answered in a loud whisper, and Parvati laughed delightedly. "Just so," she said, tucking her arm in his. "We'd better get out there. Hermione, we'll send McGonagall when they're ready for you." They left, followed discreetly by Ginny and Molly, who shut the door behind them.

"You... you're enchanting," Harry said, smiling at his best friend.

"Thanks, Harry," she said, kissing his cheek. "You're looking rather sharp yourself."

Harry glanced at his cummerbund. "I look like a penguin," he remarked, to Hermione's delight. "All men say that. Did you see Severus?"

"Yep, just came from his room. He's heading down to the Great Hall. He looks like a penguin too," he joked. She smiled widely. "If he looks half as handsome as you, I'm a lucky bride indeed."

He took her hand and looked at her earnestly. "Are you happy, Hermione?"

She blinked away the sudden tears that threatened to spill. "I've never been happier," she said honestly. "He's my life."

Harry nodded. "I know. I just had to be sure. It's my job to look out for you, you know."

McGonagall knocked, then poked her head in. "Oh, my! You look absolutely beautiful, Hermione. I don't know when I've seen a prettier bride." Hermione blushed, "Thank you, Minerva. Are they ready for us now?"

McGonagall nodded, dabbing at her eyes with a tissue. "They are. I've got your flowers here." She handed Hermione the lily and ivy bouquet Professor Sprout had designed. "Hurry now. Severus is getting impatient."

Harry offered Hermione his arm and they left the room, heading for the Great Hall. Parvati and Ron stood already in place, and Ginny had taken Remus Lupin's arm, ready to begin the procession.

The music started from inside, and the first couple stepped forward. Hermione glanced at her escort and was surprised to see a single tear running down his cheek.

"All right, Harry?" she whispered.

"All right. A little sad, but mostly happy. He's a lucky man."

She smiled at him, and they turned their attention back to the proceedings. The music paused for a split second, and the wedding march started. She and Harry moved to the door, where she got her first look at Severus on their wedding day.

He was standing by the pulpit looking at her, love and happiness shining on his face.

And then Harry had taken her arm and was leading her forward, down the long aisle, to her future.

To Severus.


	24. Epilogue

She sat on the grass and idly plucked a few blades from the ground, twisting them in her fingers. "It's a beautiful day today. The students are all by the lake, tormenting the giant squid. Harry's got his hands full with a few Gryffindors who decided it would be fun to wreak a little havoc in the corridors," she smiled. "They're not even Weasleys."

"Harry's a good man, Severus, but you already knew that. He's not you, but I love him, too. I used to feel guilty about that, that I couldn't love him like I did you, but he's told me time and time again that he doesn't mind. He knows love like ours only comes once in a lifetime."

Tears stung the corner of her eyes, but she didn't brush them aside. "We had an amazing life together, love. One hundred and two years is nothing to sneeze at, and I wouldn't change a minute of them, but I'd give up almost anything else to have you back, if only for a moment. I still miss you so much it hurts."

She sniffed and swallowed hard. "I got your letter, the one you left in our Grignotts vault. I think it's the only reason I kept waking up every morning after you left. It's rather pathetic that you had to tell me to keep living, but you always were my soft spot." She twisted the brilliant green ring that had been moved to her right hand. "We're to be married tomorrow, Harry and I. His son James is going to be performing the ceremony. I think it's time, and so does he."

"I love you, Severus, now and forever, but you're right. I have to keep on living. I know you'll be waiting for me on the other side, and we'll have eternity together. But for now, there's other people who need me here on earth. I know you understand."

"I should be getting back now," she said, but made no attempt to move. She ran her fingers over the inscription on the cold stone, the one she had chosen just two years ago.

_Severus Snape_

_1960-2101_

_He came by way of sorrow_

_But still he found his destiny_

"I thought I'd find you here," Harry said quietly, coming up behind her. He placed a hand gently on her shoulder as she wiped away the tears.

"He was an amazing man," he said. "I miss him, too."

"Yes," she whispered, allowing Harry to help her up. They stood there in silence, both of them lost in memories of years long past. A gentle wind blew past, lifting Hermione's long white hair and caressing her neck, and she could have sworn a silky voice whispered in her ear.

_You looked into my soul and set me free. Now I return the gift. Love him, and when it is time, return to me._

"Are you OK?" Harry asked, concerned as she began to cry silently one more. She nodded, reassuring him. "This time, it's cleansing tears."

When she was ready, he led he back to the castle. "Good afternoon Headmistress Snape, Professor Potter," the students said as they passed. Hermione greeted them with a smile. They were halfway to her office when she stopped walking.

"You know, Harry, it really is a beautiful day. It'd be a shame to waste it indoors. Let's go back outside."

He looked surprised and amused. "Shall we find some mischief, then?"

She smirked. "As I recall, Harry, we never had to look for it. It always found us."

He laughed then, and it made him sound remarkably similar to the eleven year old boy he had been when he first stood within these walls. His hair was grey now, but his eyes were still the same, and he still bore the lightening bolt scar that made him famous. "Well, Hermione, no one could ever say our lives have been boring!"

She smiled and wove her arm through his. "Let's get started, then, shall we?" she said, and they walked out of the huge castle doors together.

_ finis_


End file.
